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ST. ANSELM
PROSLOGIUM; MONOLOGIUM ; AN
APPENDIX IN BEHALF OF THE
FOOL BY GAUNILON; AND
CUR DEUS HOMO
TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN
BY
SIDNEY NORTON DEANE, B. A.
WITH AN INTRODUCTION, BIBLIOGRAPHY, AND REPRINTS
OF THE OPINIONS OF LEADING PHILOSOPHERS AND
WRITERS ON THE ONTOLOGICAL ARGUMENT
CHICAGO
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
LONDON AGENTS
KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., LTD.
1903
TRANSLATION OF
PROSLOGIUM, MONOLOGIUM, AND APPENDIX
COPYRIGHTED BY
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING Co.
1903.
INTRODUCTION.
/rT^HE present volume of St. Anselm's most important philosoph-
JL ical and theological writings contains : (i) The Proslogium
(2) the Monologium, (3) the Cur Deus Homo, and (4) by way of
historical complement, an Appendix to the Monologium entitled
In Behalf of the Fool by Gaunilon, a monk of Marmoutiers. The
Proslogium (which, though subsequent in point of time to the
Monologium, is here placed first, as containing the famous on to-
logical argument), the Monologium and the Appendix thereto
were translated by Mr. Sidney Norton Deane, of New Haven,
Conn.; the Cur Deus Homo was rendered by James Gardiner
Vose, formerly of Milton, Conn., and later of Providence, R. I.,
and published in 1854 and 1855 in the Bibliotheca Sacra, then
issued at Andover, Mass. , by Warren F. Draper. The thanks of
the reading public are due to all these gentlemen for their gratui
tous labors in behalf of philosophy.
Welch's recent book Anselm and His Work, by its accessi
bility, renders any extended biographical notice of Anselm unnec-
cessary. We append, therefore, merely a few brief paragraphs
from Weber's admirable History of Philosophy on Anselm's po
sition in the world of thought, and we afterwards add (this, at the
suggestion of Prof. George M. Duncan, of Yale University) a series
of quotations regarding Anselm's most characteristic contribution
to philosophy — the ontological argument — from Descartes, Spi
noza, Locke, Leibnitz, Kant, Hegel, Dorner, Lotze, and Professor
Flint. A bibliography also has been compiled. Thus the work
will give full material and indications for the original study of one
of the greatest exponents of Christian doctrine.
ANSELM'S PHILOSOPHY.
(AFTER WEBER.1)
"The first really speculative thinker after Scotus is St. An-
selmus, the disciple of Lanfranc. He was born at Aosta (1033),
iFrom Weber's History of Philosophy. Trans, by F. Thilly. New York
Scribner's. Price, $2.50.
IV INTRODUCTION.
entered the monastery of Bee in Normandy (1060), succeeded Lan-
franc as Abbot (1078), and as Archbishop of Canterbury (1093).
He died in nog. He left a great number of writings, the most
important of which are : the Dialogus de grammatico, the Mo-
nologium de divinitatis essentia sive Exemplum de rationefidei,
the Proslogium sive Fides qucerens intellectum, the De veritate,
the Defide trinitatis, and the Cur Deus Homo ?
"The second Augustine, as St. Anselmus had been called,
starts out from the same principle as the first ; he holds that faith
precedes all reflection and all discussion concerning religious
things. The unbelievers, he says, strive to understand because
they do not believe ; we, on the contrary, strive to understand be
cause we believe. They and zue have the same object in viezv;
but inasmuch as they do not believe, they cannot arrive at their
goal, which is to understand the dogma. The unbeliever will
never understand. In religion faith plays the part played by ex
perience in the understanding of the things of this world. The
blind man cannot see the light, and therefore does not understand
it ; the deaf-mute, who has never perceived sound, cannot have a
clear idea of sound. Similarly, not to believe means not to per
ceive, and not to perceive means not to understand. Hence, we
do not reflect in order that we may believe ; on the contrary, we
believe in order that we may arrive at knowledge. A Christian
ought never to doubt the beliefs and teachings of the Holy Cath
olic Church. All he can do is to strive, as humbly as possible, to
understand her teachings by believing them, to love them, and
resolutely to observe them in his daily life. Should he succeed
in understanding the Christian doctrine, let him render thanks to
God, the source of all intelligence ! In case he fails, that is no
reason why he should obstinately attack the dogma, but a reason
why he should bow his head in worship. Faith ought not merely
to be the starting-point, — the Christian's aim is not to depart from
faith but to remain in it, — but also the fixed rule and goal of
thought, the beginning, the middle, and the end of all philosophy.
' ' The above almost literal quotations might give one the im
pression that St. Anselmus belongs exclusively to the history of
theology. Such is not the case, however. This fervent Catholic
is more independent, more of an investigator and philosopher than
he himself imagines. He is a typical scholastic doctor and a fine
exponent of the alliance between reason and faith which forms the
characteristic trait of mediaeval philosophy. He assumes, a priori,
INTRODUCTION. V
that revelation and reason are in perfect accord. These two mani
festations of one and the some Supreme Intelligence cannot pos
sibly contradict each other. Hence, his point of view is diametric
ally opposed to the credo quiet, absurdum. Moreover, he too had
been besieged by doubt. Indeed, the extreme ardor which impels
him to search everywhere for arguments favorable to the dogma,
is a confession on his part that the dogma needs support, that it is
debatable, that it lacks self-evidence, the criterion of truth. Even
as a monk, it was his chief concern to find a simple and conclusive
argument in support of the existence of God and of all the doc
trines of the Church concerning the Supreme Being. Mere affir
mation did not satisfy him ; he demanded proofs. This thought
was continually before his mind ; it caused him to forget his meals,
and pursued him even during the solemn moments of worship. He
comes to the conclusion that it is a temptation of Satan, and seeks
deliverance from it. But in vain. After a night spent in medita
tion, he at last discovers what he has been seeking for years : the
incontrovertible argument in favor of the Christian dogma, and he
regards himself as fortunate in having found, not only the proof of
the existence of God, but his peace of soul. His demonstrations
are like the premises of modern rationalism.
" Everything that exists, he says, has its cause, and this cause
may be one or many. If it is one, then we have what we are look
ing for : God, the unitary being to whom all other beings owe their
origin. If it is manifold, there are three possibilities : (i) The
manifold may depend on unity as its cause ; or (2) Each thing
composing the manifold may be self-caused; or (3) Each thing
may owe its existence to all the other things. The first case is
identical with the hypothesis that everything proceeds from a single
cause ; for to depend on several causes, all of which depend on a
single cause, means to depend on this single cause. In the second
case, we must assume that there is a power, force, or faculty of
self-existence common to all the particular causes assumed by the
hypothesis ; a power in which all participate and are comprised.
But that would give us what we had in the first case, an absolute
unitary cause. The third supposition, which makes each of the
1 first causes ' depend on all the rest, is absurd ; for we cannot
hold that a thing has for its cause and condition of existence a
thing of which it is itself the cause and condition. Hence we are
compelled to believe in a being which is the cause of every exist
ing thing, without being caused by anything itself, and which for
VI INTRODUCTION.
that very reason is infinitely more perfect than anything else : it
is the most real (ens realissimum), most powerful, and best being
Since it does not depend on any being or on any condition of ex
istence other than itself it is a se and $cr sc; it exists, not be
cause something else exists, but it exists because it exists ; that is,
it exists necessarily, it is necessary being.
"It would be an easy matter to deduce pantheism from the
arguments of the Monologium. Anselmus, it is true, protests
against such an interpretation of his theology. With St. Augus
tine he assumes that the world is created ex nihilo. But though
accepting this teaching, he modifies it. Before the creation, he
says, things did not exist by themselves, independently of God ;
hence we say they were derived from non-being. But they existed
eternally/or God and in God, as ideas ; they existed before their
creation, in the sense that the Creator foresaw them and predes
tined them for existence.
" The existence of God, the unitary and absolute cause of the
world, being proved, the question is to determine his nature and
attributes. God's perfections are like human perfections; with
this difference, however, that they are essential to him, which is
not the case with us. Man has received a share of certain perfec
tions, but there is no necessary correlation between him and these
perfections ; it would have been possible for him not to receive
them ; he could have existed without them. God, on the contrary,
does not get his perfections from without : he has not received
them, and we cannot say that he has them ; he is and must be
everything that these perfections imply ; his attributes are identi
cal with his essence. Justice, an attribute of God, and God are
not two separate things. We cannot say of God that he has jus
tice or goodness ; we cannot even say that he is just ; for to be
just is to participate in justice after the manner of creatures. God
is justice as such, goodness as such, wisdom as such, happiness as
such, truth as such, being as such. Moreover, all of God's attri
butes constitute but a single attribute, by virtue of the unity of his
essence (unum est quidquid essentialiter de summa substantia
dicitur).
"All this is pure Platonism. But, not content with spiritual
ising theism, Anselmus really discredits it when, like a new Car-
neades, he enumerates the difficulties which he finds in the con
ception. God is a simple being and at the same time eternal, that
is, diffused over infinite points of time ; he is omnipresent, that is,
INTRODUCTION. VH
distributed over all points of space. Shall we say that God is
omnipresent and eternal ? This proposition contradicts the notion
of the simplicity of the divine essence. Shall we say that he is
nowhere in space and nowhere in time ? But that would be equiv
alent to denying his existence. Let us therefore reconcile these
two extremes and say that God is omnipresent and eternal, with
out being limited by space or time. The following is an equally
serious difficulty : In God there is no change and consequently
nothing accidental. Now, there is no substance without accidents.
Hence God is not a substance ; he transcends all substance. An-
selmus is alarmed at these dangerous consequences of his logic,
and he therefore prudently adds that, though the term ' sub
stance ' may be incorrect, it is, nevertheless, the best we can ap
ply to God — si quid digne diet fotest — and that to avoid or con
demn it might perhaps jeopardise our faith in the reality of the
Divine Being.
"The most formidable theological antinomy is the doctrine of
the trinity of persons in the unity of the divine essence. The Word
is the object of eternal thought; it is God in so far as he is thought,
conceived, or comprehended by himself. The Holy Spirit is the
love of God for the Word, and of the Word for God, the love
which God bears himself. But is this explanation satisfactory ?
And does it not sacrifice the dogma which it professes to explain
to the conception of unity ? St. Anselmus sees in the Trinity and
the notion of God insurmountable difficulties and contradictions,
which the human mind cannot reconcile. In his discouragement
he is obliged to confess, with Scotus Erigena, St. Augustine, and
the Neo-Platonists, that no human word can adequately express
the esssence of the All-High. Even the words ' wisdom ' (sapien-
tia) and 'being' (essentia) are but imperfect expressions of what
he imagines to be the essence of God. All theological phrases are
analogies, figures of speech, and mere approximations.
' ' The Proslogium sive Fides quccrens intellectum has the
same aim as the Monologium: to prove the existence of God.
Our author draws the elements of his argument from St. Augustine
and Platonism. He sets out from the idea of a perfect being, from
which he infers the existence of such a being. We have in our
selves, he says, the idea of an absolutely perfect being. Now,
perfection implies existence. Hence God exists. This argument,
which has been termed the ontological argument , found an op
ponent worthy of Anselmus in Gaunilo, a monk of Marmoutiers in
Vlll INTRODUCTION.
Touraine. Gaunilo emphasises the difference between thought
and being, and points out the fact that we may conceive and im
agine a being, and yet that being may not exist. We have as much
right to conclude from our idea of an enchanted island in the mid
dle of the ocean that such an island actually exists. The criticism
is just. Indeed, the ontological argument would be conclusive,
only in case the idea of God and the existence of God in the hu
man mind were identical. If our idea of God is God himself, it is
evident that this idea is the immediate and incontrovertible proof
of the existence of God. But what the theologian aims to prove
is not the existence of the God-Idea of Plato and Hegel, but the
existence of the personal God. However that may be. we hardly
know what to admire most, — St. Anselmus's broad and profound
conception, or the sagacity of his opponent who, in the seclusion
of his cell, anticipates the Transcendental Dialectic of Kant.
" The rationalistic tendency which we have just noticed in the
Monologium and the Proslogium meets us again in the Cur Deus
Homo? Why did God become man ? The first word of the title
sufficiently indicates the philosophical trend of the treatise. The
object is to search for the causes of the incarnation. The incarna
tion, according to St. Anselmus, necessarily follows from the ne
cessity of redemption. Sin is an offence against the majesty of
God. In spite of his goodness, God cannot pardon sin without
compounding with honor and justice. On the other hand, he can
not revenge himself on man for his offended honor ; for sin is an
offence of infinite degree, and therefore demands infinite satisfac
tion ; which means that he must either destroy humanity or inflict
upon it the eternal punishments of hell. Now, in either case, the
goal of creation, the happiness of his creatures, would be missed
and the honor of the Creator compromised. There is but one way
for God to escape this dilemma without affecting his honor, and
that is to arrange for some kind of satisfaction. He must have
infinite satisfaction, because the offence is immeasurable. Now,
in so far as man is a finite being and incapable of satisfying divine
justice in an infinite measure, the infinite being himself must take
the matter in charge ; he must have recourse to sitbstitution.
Hence, the necessity of the incarnation. God becomes man in
Christ ; Christ suffers and dies in our stead ; thus he acquires an
infinite merit and the right to an equivalent recompense. But
since the world belongs to the Creator, and nothing can be added
to its treasures, the recompense which by right belongs to Christ
INTRODUCTION. IX
Calls to the lot of the human race in which he is incorporated :
humanity is pardoned, forgiven, and saved.
" Theological criticism has repudiated Anselmus's theory,
which bears the stamp of the spirit of chivalry and of feudal cus
toms. But, notwithstanding the attacks of a superficial rational
ism, there is an abiding element of truth in it : over and above
each personal and variable will there is an absolute, immutable,
and incorruptible will, called justice, honor, and duty, in conform
ity with the customs of the times."
CRITICISMS OF ANSELM'S ONTOLOGICAL
ARGUMENT FOR THE BEING OF GOD.
DESCARTES.1
"But now, if from the simple fact that I can draw from my
thought the idea of anything it follows that all that I recognise
clearly and distinctly to pertain to this thing pertains to it in real
ity, can I not draw from this an argument and a demonstration of
the existence of God ? It is certain that I do not find in me the
less the idea of him, that is, of a being supremely perfect, than
that of any figure or of any number whatever ; and I do not know
less clearly and distinctly that an actual and eternal existence be
longs to his nature than I know that all that I can demonstrate of
any figure or of any number belongs truly to the nature of that
figure or that number : and accordingly, although all that I have
concluded in the preceding meditations may not turn out to be
true, the existence of God ought to pass in my mind as being at
least as certain as I have up to this time regarded the truths of
mathematics to be, which have to do only with numbers and fig
ures : although, indeed, that might not seem at first to be perfectly
evident, but might appear to have some appearance of sophistry.
For being accustomed in all other things to make a distinction be
tween existence and essence, I easily persuade myself that exist
ence may perhaps be separated from the essence of God, and thus
God might be conceived as not existent actually. But neverthe
less, when I think more attentively, I find that existence can no
more be separated from the essence of God than from the essence
of a rectilinear triangle can be separated the equality of its three
1 The Philosophy of Descartes in Extracts from His Writings. H. A. P.
Torrey. New York, 1892. P. 161 et seq.
X INTRODUCTION.
angles to two right angles, or, indeed, if you please, from the idea
of a mountain the idea of a valley; so that there would be no less
contradiction in conceiving of a God — that is, of a being supremely
perfect, to whom existence was wanting, that is to say, to whom
there was wanting any perfection — than in conceiving of a moun
tain which had no valley.
" But although, in reality, I might not be able to conceive of
a God without existence, no more than of a mountain without a
valley, nevertheless, as from the simple fact that I conceive a
mountain with a valley, it does not follow that there exists any
mountain in the world, so likewise, although I conceive God as
existent, it does not follow, it seems, from that, that God exists,
for my thought does not impose any necessity on things; and as
there is nothing to prevent my imagining a winged horse, although
there is none which has wings, so I might, perhaps, be able to at
tribute existence to God, although there might not be any God
which existed. So far from this being so, it is just here under the
appearance of this objection that a sophism lies hid ; for from the
fact that I cannot conceive a mountain without a valley, it does
not follow that there exists in the world any mountain or any
valley, but solely that the mountain and the valley, whether they
exist or not, are inseparable from one another ; whereas, from the
fact alone that I cannot conceive God except as existent, it follows
that existence is inseparable from him, and, consequently, that he
exists in reality ; not that my thought can make it to be so, or that
it can impose any necessity upon things ; but on the contrary the
necessity which is in the thing itself, that is to say, the necessity
of the existence of God, determines me to have this thought.
" For it is not at my will to conceive of a God without exist
ence, that is to say, a being supremely perfect without a supreme
perfection, as it is at my will to conceive a horse with wings or
without wings.
"And it must not also be said here that it is necessarily true
that I should affirm that God exists, after I have supposed him to
possess all kinds of perfection, since existence is one of these, but
that my first supposition is not necessary, no more than it is neces
sary to affirm that all figures of four sides may be inscribed in the
circle, but that, supposing I had this thought, I should be con
strained to admit that the rhombus can be inscribed there, since it
is a figure of four sides, and thus I should be constrained to admit
2thing false. One ought not, I say, to allege this ; for although
INTRODUCTION. XI
it may not be necessary that I should ever fall to thinking about
God, nevertheless, when it happens that I think upon a being first
and supreme, and draw, so to speak, the idea of him from the
store-house of mind, it is necessary that I attribute to him every
sort of perfection, although I may not go on to enumerate them
all, and give attention to each one in particular. And this neces
sity is sufficient to bring it about (as soon as I recognise that I
should next conclude that existence is a perfection) that this first
and supreme being exists : while, just as it is not necessary that I
ever imagine a triangle, but whenever I choose to consider a recti
linear figure, composed solely of three angles, it is absolutely nec
essary that I attribute to it all the things which serve for the con
clusion that there three angles are not greater than two right
angles, although, perhaps, I did not then consider this in partic
ular."
SPINOZA.1
" PROP. XI. God, or substance, consisting of infinite attri
butes, of zuhicJi each expresses eternal and infinite essentiality,
necessarily exists.
"Proof.— If this be denied, conceive, if possible, that God does
not exist : then his essence does not involve existence. But this
(by Prop, vii.) is absurd. Therefore God necessarily exists.
"Another Proof . — Of everything whatsoever a cause or reason
must be assigned, either for its existence, or for its non-existence
— e. g., if a triangle exist, a reason or cause must be granted for
its existence ; if, on the contrary, it does not exist, a cause must
also be granted, which prevents it from existing, or annuls its ex
istence. This reason or cause must either be contained in the na
ture of the thing in question, or be external to it. For instance,
the reason for the non-existence of a square circle is indicated in
its nature, namely, because it would involve a contradiction. On
the other hand, the existence of substance follows also solely from
its nature, inasmuch as its nature involves existence. (See Prop,
vii.)
"But the reason for the existence of a triangle or a circle does
not follow from the nature of those figures, but from the order of
universal nature in extension. From the latter it must follow,
either that a triangle necessarily exists, or that it is impossible
1 The Chief Works of Benedict de Spinoza. Translated by R. H. M. Elwes.
London, 1848. Vol. II., p. 51 et seq.
Xll INTRODUCTION.
that it should exist. So much is self-evident. It follows there
from that a thing necessarily exists, if no cause or reason be granted
which prevents its existence.
"If, then, no cause or reason can be given, which prevents
the existence of God, or which destroys his existence, we must
certainly conclude that he necessarily does exist. If such a reason
or cause should be given, it must either be drawn from the very
nature of God, or be external to him — that is, drawn from another
substance of another nature. For if it were of the same nature,
God, by that very fact, would be admitted to exist. But substance
of another nature could have nothing in common with God (by
Prop, ii.), and therefore would be unable either to cause or to de
stroy his existence.
"As, then, a reason or cause which would annul the divine
existence cannot be drawn from anything external to the divine
nature, such cause must perforce, if God does not exist, be drawn
from God's own nature, which would involve a contradiction. To
make such an affirmation about a being absolutely infinite and
supremely perfect, is absurd ; therefore, neither in the nature of
God, nor externally to his nature, can a cause or reason be as
signed which would annul his existence. Therefore, God neces
sarily exists. Q. E. D.
"Another $roof. — The potentiality of non-existence is a nega
tion of power, and contrariwise the potentiality of existence is a
power, as is obvious. If, then, that which necessarily exists is
nothing but finite beings, such finite beings are more powerful
than a being absolutely infinite, which is obviously absurd ; there
fore, either nothing exists, or else a being absolutely infinite neces
sarily exists also. Now we exist either in ourselves, or in some
thing else which necessarily exists (see Axiom i. and Prop. vii.).
Therefore a being absolutely infinite — in other words, God (Def.
vi.) — necessarily exists. Q. E. D.
"Note. — In this last proof, I have purposely shown God's ex
istence a posteriori, so that the proof might be more easily fol
lowed, not because, from the same premises, God's existence does
not follow a priori. For, as the potentiality of existence is a
power, it follows that, in proportion as reality increases in the na
ture of a thing, so also will it increase its strength for existence.
Therefore a being absolutely infinite, such as God, has from him
self an absolutely infinite power of existence, and hence he does
absolutely exist. Perhaps there will be many who will be unable
INTRODUCTION. Xlll
to see the force of this proof, inasmuch as they are accustomed
only to consider those things which flow from external causes. Of
such things, they see that those which quickly come to pass — that
is, quickly come into existence — quickly also disappear ; whereas
they regard as more difficult of accomplishment — that is, not so
easily brought into existence — those things which they conceive as
more complicated.
"However, to do away with this misconception, I need not
here show the measure of truth in the proverb, 'What comes
quickly, goes quickly ,' nor discuss whether, from the point of view
of universal nature, all things are equally easy, or otherwise : I
need only remark, that I am not here speaking of things, which
come to pass through causes external to themselves, but only of
substances which (by Prop, vi.) cannot be produced by any ex
ternal cause. Things which are produced by external causes,
whether they consist of many parts or few, owe whatsoever per
fection or reality they possess solely to the efficacy of their external
cause, and therefore their existence arises solely from the perfec
tion by their external cause, not from their own. Contrariwise,
whatsoever perfection is possessed by substance is due to no ex
ternal cause; wherefore the existence of substance must arise
solely from its own nature, which is nothing else but its essence.
Thus, the perfection of a thing does not annul its existence, but,
on the contrary, asserts it. Imperfection, on the other hand, does
annul it ; therefore we cannot be more certain of the existence of
anything, than of the existence of a being absolutely infinite or
perfect— that is, of God. For inasmuch as his essence excludes all
imperfection, and involves absolute perfection, all cause for doubt
concerning his existence is done away, and the utmost certainty
on the question is given. This, I think, will be evident to every
moderately attentive reader."
LOCKE.1
" Our idea of a most perfect being-, not tlie sole proof of a
God. — How far the idea of a most perfect being which a man may
frame in his mind, does or does not prove the existence of a God,
I will not here examine. For, in the different make of men's tem
pers, and application of their thoughts, some arguments prevail
1 An Essay Concerning Human Understanding. London : Ward, Lock, &
Co. P. 529 et seq.
XIV INTRODUCTION.
more on one, and some on another, for the confirmation of the
same truth. But yet, I think this I may say, that it is an ill way
of establishing this truth and silencing atheists, to lay the whole
stress of so important a point as this upon that sole foundation :
and take some men's having that idea of God in their minds (for it
is evident some men have none, and some worse than none, and
the most very different) for the only proof of a Deity ; and out of
an over-fondness of that darling invention, cashier, or at least en
deavor to invalidate, all other arguments, and forbid us to hearken
to those proofs, as being weak or fallacious, which our own exist
ence and the sensible parts of the universe offer so clearly and
cogently to our thoughts, that I deem it impossible for a consider
ing man to withstand them."
LEIBNITZ.1
"Although I am for innate ideas, and in particular for that of
God, I do not think that the demonstrations of the Cartesians
drawn from the idea of God are perfect. I have shown fully else
where (in the Actes de Leipsic, and in the M/moires de Trevoux)
that what Descartes has borrowed from Anselm, Archbishop of
Canterbury, is very beautiful and really very ingenious, but that
there is still a gap therein to be filled. This celebrated archbishop,
who was without doubt one of the most able men of his time, con
gratulates himself, not without reason, for having discovered a
means of proving the existence of God a priori, by means of its
own notion, without recurring to its effects. And this is very
nearly the force of his argument : God is the greatest or (as Des
cartes says) the most perfect of beings, or rather a being of su
preme grandeur and perfection, including all degrees thereof.
That is the notion of God. See now how existence follows from
this notion. To exist is something more than not to exist, or
rather, existence adds a degree to grandeur and perfection, and as
Descartes states it, existence is itself a perfection. Therefore this
degree of grandeur and perfection, or rather this perfection which
consists in existence, is in this supreme all-great, all-perfect being :
for otherwise some degree would be wanting to it, contrary to its
definition. Consequently this supreme being exists. The Scho
lastics, not excepting even their Doctor Angelicus, have misunder-
1 New Essays Concerning Human Understanding. Translated by A. G.
Langley. New York, 1896. P. 502 et seq.
INTRODUCTION. XV
stood this argument, and have taken it as a paralogism ; in which
respect they were altogether wrong, and Descartes, who studied
quite a long time the scholastic philosophy at the Jesuit College of
La Fleche, had great reason for re-establishing it. It is not a
paralogism, but it is an imperfect demonstration, which assumes
something that must still be proved in order to render it mathe
matically evident ; that is, it is tacitly assumed that this idea of
the all-great or all-perfect being is possible, and implies no con
tradiction. And it is already something that by this remark it is
proved that, assuming that God is possible, he exists, which is
the privilege of divinity alone. We have the right to presume the
possibility of every being, and especially that of God, until some
one proves the contrary. So that this metaphysical argument
already gives a morally demonstrative conclusion, which declares
that according to the present state of our knowledge we must judge
that God exists, and act in conformity thereto. But it is to be de
sired, nevertheless, that clever men achieve the demonstration with
the strictness of a mathematical proof, and I think I have else
where said something that may serve this end."
KANT.1
"Being- is evidently not a real predicate, or a concept of some
thing that can be added to the concept of a thing. It is merely the
admission of a thing, and of certain determinations in it. Logi
cally, it is merely the copula of a judgment. The proposition,
God is almighty, contains two concepts, each having its object,
namely, God and almightiness. The small word is, is not an ad
ditional predicate, but only serves to put the predicate in relation
to the subject. If, then, I take the subject (God) with all its pred
icates (including that of almightiness), and say, God is, or there is
a God, I do not put a new predicate to the concept of God, but I
only put the subject by itself, with all its predicates, in relation to
my concept, as its object. Both must contain exactly the same
kind of thing, and nothing can have been added to the concept,
which expresses possibility only, by my thinking its object as simply
given and saying, it is. And thus the real does not contain more
than the possible. A hundred real dollars do not contain a penny
more than a hundred possible dollars. For as the latter signify
1 Critique of Pure Reason. Translated by F. Max Miiller. New York, 1896.
P. 483 et seq.
XVi INTRODUCTION.
the concept, the former the object and its position by itself, it is
clear that, in case the former contained more than the latter, my
concept would not express the whole object, and would not there
fore be its adequate concept. In my financial position no doubt
there exists more by one hundred real dollars, than by their con
cept only (that is their possibility), because in reality the object is
not only contained analytically in my concept, but is added to my
concept (which is a determination of my state), synthetically ; but
the conceived hundred dollars are not in the least increased through
the existence which is outside my concept.
" By whatever and by however many predicates I may think a
thing (even in completely determining it), nothing is really added
to it, if I add that the thing exists. Otherwise, it would not be the
same that exists, but something more than was contained in the
concept, and I could not say that the exact object of my concept
existed. Nay, even if I were to think in a thing all reality, except
one, that one missing reality would not be supplied by my saying
that so defective a thing exists, but it would exist with the same
defect with which I thought it ; or what exists would be different
from what I thought. If, then, I try to conceive a being, as the
highest reality (without any defect), the question still remains,
whether it exists or not. For though in my concept there may be
wanting nothing of the possible real content of a thing in general,
something is wanting in its relation to my whole state of thinking,
namely, that the knowledge of that object should be possible a
posteriori also. And here we perceive the cause of our difficulty.
If we were concerned with an object of our senses, I could not
mistake the existence of a thing for the mere concept of it ; for by
the concept the object is thought as only in harmony with the gen
eral conditions of a possible empirical knowledge, while by its ex
istence it is thought as contained in the whole content of experi
ence. Through this connection with the content of the whole
experience, the concept of an object is not in the least increased ;
our thought has only received through it one more possible per
ception. If, however, we are thinking existence through the pure
category alone, we need not wonder that we cannot find any char
acteristic to distinguish it from mere possibility.
"Whatever, therefore, our concept of an object may contain,
we must always step outside it, in order to attribute to it existence.
With objects of the senses, this takes place through their connec
tion with any one of my perceptions, according to empirical laws;
INTRODUCTION. Xvii
with objects of pure thought, however, there is no means of know
ing their existence, because it would have to be known entirely
a friori, while our consciousness of every kind of existence,
whether immediately by perception, or by conclusions which con
nect something with perception, belongs entirely to the unity of
experience, and any existence outside that field, though it cannot
be declared to be absolutely impossible, is a presupposition that
cannot be justified by anything.
"The concept of a Supreme Being is, in many respects, a
very useful idea, but, being an idea only, it is quite incapable of in
creasing, by itself alone, our knowledge with regard to what exists.
It cannot even do so much as to inform us any further as to its
possibility. The analytical characteristic of possibility, which con
sists in the absence of contradiction in mere positions (realities),
cannot be denied to it ; but the connection of all real properties in
one and the same thing is a synthesis the possibility of which we
cannot judge a priori because these realities are not given to us as
such, and because, even if this were so, no judgment whatever
takes place, it being necessary to look for the characteristic of the
possibility of synthetical knowledge in experience only, to which
the object of an idea can never belong. Thus we see that the cel
ebrated Leibnitz is far from having achieved what we thought he
had, namely, to understand a priori the possibility of so sublime
an ideal Being.
' Time and labor therefore are lost on the famous ontological
(Cartesian) proof of the existence of a Supreme Being from mere
concepts ; and a man might as well imagine that he could become
richer in knowledge by mere ideas, as a merchant in capital, if, in
order to improve his position, he were to add a few noughts to his
cash account."
HEGEL.1
"This proof was included among the various proofs up to the
time of Kant, and — by some who have not yet reached the Kantian
standpoint — it is so included even to the present day. It is differ
ent from what we find and read of amongst the ancients. For it
was said that God is absolute thought as objective ; for because
things in the world are contingent, they are not the truth in and
for itself— but this is found in the infinite. The scholastics also
1 Lectures on the History of Philosophy. Translated by E. S. Haldane and
F. H. Simson. London, 1896. Vol. III., p. 62 et seq.
XV111 INTRODUCTION.
knew well from the Aristotelian philosophy the metaphysical prop
osition that potentiality is nothing by itself, but is clearly one with
actuality. Later, on the other hand, the opposition between thought
itself and Being began to appear with Anselm. It is noteworthy
that only now for the first time through the Middle Ages and in
Christianity, the universal Notion and Being, as it is to ordinary
conception, became established in this pure abstraction as these
infinite extremes ; and thus the highest law has come to conscious
ness. But we reach our profoundest depths in bringing the highest
opposition into consciousness. Only no advance was made beyond
the division as such, although Anselm also tried to find the con
nection between the sides. But while hitherto God appeared as
the absolute existent, and the universal was attributed to Him as
predicate, an opposite order begins with Anselm — Being becomes
predicate, and the absolute Idea is first of all established as the
subject, but the subject of thought. Thus if the existence of God
is once abandoned as the first hypothesis, and established as a re
sult of thought, self-consciousness is on the way to turn back within
itself. Then we have the question coming in, Does God exist ?
while on the other side the question of most importance was,
What is God ?
"The ontological proof, which is the first properly metaphys
ical proof of the existence of God, consequently came to mean that
God as the Idea of existence which unites all reality in itself, also
has the reality of existence within Himself ; this proof thus fol
lows from the Notion of God, that He is the universal essence of
all essence. The drift of this reasoning is, according to Anselm
{Proslogium, C. 2), as follows : ' It is one thing to say that a thing
is in the understanding, and quite another to perceive that it ex
ists. Even an ignorant person (insipiens) will thus be quite con
vinced that in thought there is something beyond which nothing
greater can be thought ; for when he hears this he understands it,
and everything that is understood is in the understanding. But
that beyond which nothing greater can be thought cannot cer
tainly be in the understanding alone. For if it is accepted as in
thought alone, we may go on farther to accept it as existent ; that,
however, is something greater ' than what is merely thought.
'Thus were that beyond which nothing greater can be thought
merely in the understanding, that beyond which nothing greater
can be thought would be something beyond which something
greater can be thought. But that is truly impossible ; there thus
INTRODUCTION. xix
without doubt exists both in the understanding and in reality some
thing beyond which nothing greater can be thought.' The highest
conception cannot be in the understanding alone; it is essential
that it should exist. Thus it is made clear that Being is in a super
ficial way subsumed under the universal of reality, that to this ex
tent Being does not enter into opposition with the Notion. That
is quite right ; only the transition is not demonstrated — that the
subjective understanding abrogates itself. This, however, is just
the question which gives the whole interest to the matter. When
reality or completion is expressed in such a way that it is not yet
posited as existent, it is something thought, and rather opposed to
Being than that this is subsumed under it.
"This mode of arguing held good until the time of Kant; and
we see in it the endeavor to apprehend the doctrine of the Church
through reason. This opposition between Being and thought is
the starting-point in philosophy, the absolute that contains the two
opposites within itself — a conception, according to Spinoza, which
involves its existence likewise. Of Anselm it is however to be re
marked that the formal logical mode of the understanding, the
process of scholastic reasoning is to be found in him ; the content
indeed is right, but the form faulty. For in the first place the ex
pression ' the thought of a Highest ' is assumed as theflrtus. Sec
ondly, there are two sorts of objects of thought — one that is and
another that is not ; the object that is only thought and does not
exist, is as imperfect as that which only is without being thought.
The third point is that what is highest must likewise exist. But
what is highest, the standard to which all else must conform, must
be no mere hypothesis, as we find it represented in the conception
of a highest acme of perfection, as a content which is thought and
likewise is. This very content, the unity of Being and thought,
is thus indeed the true content . but because Anselm has it before
him only in the form of the understanding, the opposites are iden
tical and conformable to unity in a third determination only — the
Highest — which, in as far as it is regulative, is outside of them.
In this it is involved that we should first of all have subjective
thought, and then distinguished from that, Being. We allow that
if we think a content (and it is apparently indifferent whether this
is God or any other), it may be the case that this content does not
exist. The assertion ' Something that is thought does not exist'
is now subsumed under the above standard and is not conformable
to it. We grant that the truth is that which is not merely thought
XX INTRODUCTION.
but which likewise is. But of this opposition nothing here is said.
Undoubtedly God would be imperfect, if He were merely thought
and did not also have the determination of Being. But in relation
to God we must not take thought as merely subjective ; thought
here signifies the absolute, pure thought, and thus we must ascribe
to Him the quality of Being. On the other hand if God were
merely Being, if He were not conscious of Himself as self-con
sciousness, He would not be Spirit, a thought that thinks itself.
"Kant, on the other hand, attacked and rejected Anselm's
proof — which rejection the whole world afterwards followed up —
on the ground of its being an assumption that the unity of Being
and thought is the highest perfection. What Kant thus demon
strates in the present day — that Being is different from thought
and that Being is not by any means posited with thought — was a
criticism offered even in that time by a monk named Gaunilo.
He combated this proof of Anselm's in a Liber pro insipiente to
which Anselm himself directed a reply in his Liber apologeticus
adversus insifientem. Thus Kant says (A'ritik der reinen Ver-
nunft, p. 464 of the sixth edition): If we think a hundred dollars,
this conception does not involve existence. That is certainly true :
what is only a conception does not exist, but it is likewise not a
true content, for what does not exist, is merely an untrue concep
tion. Of such we do not however here speak, but of pure thought ;
it is nothing new to say they are different — Anselm knew this just
as well as we do. God is the infinite, just as body and soul, Being
and thought are eternally united ; this is the speculative, true defi
nition of God. To the proof which Kant criticises in a manner
which it is the fashion to follow now-a-days, there is thus lacking
only the perception of the unity of thought and of existence in the
infinite; and this alone must form the commencement."
J. A. DORNER.1
"According to the Monologiiim, we arrive at the mental rep
resentation of God by the agency of faith and conscience, there
fore by a combined religious and moral method ; by the same
means we arrive at the representation of the relativity of the
world. But as there seemed to Anselm something inadequate in
making the Being of the Absolute dependent upon the existence
\A System of Christian Doctrine. Translated by A. Cave and J. S. Banks,
Edinburgh, 1880. Vol. I., p. 216 et seq
INTRODUCTION. XXI
of the Relative, as if the latter were more certain than the former,
he has interpolated in the Proslogium {Alloquium Dei} the Onto-
logical method. The thought of God, which is always given, and
the being of which is to be proved, claims, at any rate, to be the
highest thought possible ; indeed, upon close comparison with all
other thoughts which come and go, with thoughts of such things
as may just as well not exist as exist, it has the essential peculiar
ity, the prerogative, so to speak, — and this is Anselm's discovery,
— that, if it is actually thought of as the highest conceivable
thought, it is also thought of as existent. Were it not thought of
as being, it would not for a moment be actually thought. Anselm
then proceeds with his proof as follows : ' We believe Thou art
something, beyond which nothing greater can be thought. The
fool (Ps. xiv.) denies the existence of such a Being. Is He there
fore non-existent ? But the very fool hears and understands what
I say, "something, greater than which there is nothing," and what
he understands is in his understanding. That it also exists with
out him would thus have to be proved. But that, beyond which
nothing greater can be thought, cannot exist in mere intellect. For
did it exist only in intellect, the thought might be framed that it
was realised, and that would be a greater thought. Consequently,
were that, a greater than which cannot be thought, existent in
mere intellect, the thought quo majus cogitari non potest would
at the same time be quo majus cogitari potest , which is impos
sible. Consequently, there exists, in reality as well as in the un
derstanding, something a greater than which cannot be thought.
And this is so true that its non-existence cannot be thought. Some
thing may be thought which is only to be thought as existent, and
that is a majus than that the non-existence of which may be
thought, and that Thou art, O Lord, my God, I must think though
I did not believe.' The nerve of the Anselmic argument lies there
fore in the notion that an idea which has an objective existence is
a majus than that to which mere subjective existence appertains ;
that, consequently, as under the idea of God the highest thought
possible is at any rate expressed, the idea of God is not thought
unless it is thought as existent. For, he says in another place, it
may be thought of everything that it does not exist, with the ex
ception of that quod summe est to which being pre-eminently be
longs. That is, the non-existence may be thought of everything
which has beginning or end, or which is constituted of parts and
is nowhere whole. But that, and it alone, cannot be thought as
XX11 INTRODUCTION.
non-existent which has neither beginning nor end, and is not con
stituted of parts, but is thought of as everywhere existing whole.
Gaunilo, Count of Montigny, makes a twofold answer in defence
of the atheist. He says that that highest essence has no being in
the understanding ; it only exists therein by the ear, not by being ;
it only exists as a man who has heard a sound endeavors to em
brace a thing wholly unknown to him in an image. And therein,
he says, it is concluded that the mental representation of God in
mankind is already a purely contingent one, and is produced from
without by the sound of words ; its necessary presence in the
spirit is not proved. Thus, he adds, much is wanting to the ability
of inferring its existence from the finding of such an image in the
spirit. In the sphere of mere imagination no one thing has a less
or a greater existence than any other thing ; each has equally no
existence at all. Therefore, he writes, granted that the presence
of the idea of God in the spirit is not contingent, still the thought
or the concept of God does not essentially argue the being of God.
Similarly says Kant later on : ' We are no richer if we think of our
ability as one cipher more.' That Anselm also undoubtedly knew,
but he opined that the concept of God is different to any other
thought, which remains unaltered, whether it is thought of as ex
istent or non-existent ; the concept of God is that thought, which
is no longer thought unless it is thought as existent, and which,
therefore, essentially involves being. But, of course, it is insuffi
ciently established by Anselm that a concept of God which does
not necessarily include existence, is not the highest thought, and
therefore is not the concept of God, and that, consequently, the
really highest thought must also be thought of as existent, To
this the following objection attaches. Inasmuch as Anselm treated
existence as a majus compared with non-existence, he treated ex
istence as an attribute, whereas it is the bearer of all attributes.
So it is not proved by Anselm that the origin of this idea, which,
when thought, is thought as existent, is not contingent to the rea
son, but necessary ; and that reason only remains reason by virtue
of this idea. Finally, Anselm thinks, thus overrating the Onto-
logical moment, that he has already attained therein the full con
cept of God. These shortcomings were to be obviated, stage by
stage, by his successors."
INTRODUCTION.
LOTZE.1
"To conclude that because the notion of a most perfect Being
includes reality as one of its perfections, therefore a most perfect
Being necessarily exists, is so obviously to conclude falsely, that
after Kant's incisive refutation any attempt to defend such reason
ing would be useless. Anselm, in his more free and spontaneous
reflection, has here and there touched the thought that the greatest
which we can think, if we think it as only thought, is less than the
same greatest if we think it as existent. It is not possible that
from this reflection either any one should develop a logically cogent
proof, but the way in which it is put seems to reveal another fun
damental thought -which is seeking for expression. For what
would it matter if that which is thought as most perfect were, as
thought, less than the least reality? Why should this thought
disturb us? Plainly for this reason, that it is an immediate cer
tainty that what is greatest, most beautiful, most worthy is not a
mere thought, but must be a reality, because it would be intoler
able to believe of our ideal that it is an idea produced by the ac
tion of thought but having no existence, no power, and no validity
in the world of reality. We do not from the perfection of that
which is perfect immediately deduce its reality as a logical conse
quence ; but without the circumlocution of a deduction we directly
feel the impossibility of its non-existence, and all semblance of
syllogistic proof only serves to make more clear the directness of
this certainty. If what is greatest did not exist, then what is
greatest would not be, and it is not impossible that that which is
greatest of all conceivable things should not be."
PROFESSOR ROBERT FLINT.2
"Anselm was the founder of that kind of argumentation which,
in the opinion of many, is alone entitled to be described as a priori
or ontological. He reasoned thus : ' The fool may say in his heart,
There is no God ; but he only proves thereby that he is a fool, for
what he says is self-contradictory. Since he denies that there is a
God, he has in his mind the idea of God, and that idea implies the
1 Microcosmus. Translated by E. Hamilton and E. E. C. Jones. Edin
burgh, 1887. Vol. II., p. 669 et seq.
2 Theism. New York, 1893. Seventh edition. P. 278 et seq.
XXIV INTRODUCTION.
existence of God, for it is the idea of a Being than which a higher
cannot be conceived. That than which a higher cannot be con
ceived cannot exist merely as an idea, because what exists merely
as an idea is inferior to what exists in reality as well as in idea.
The idea of a highest Being which exists merely in thought, is the
idea of a highest Being which is not the highest even in thought,
but inferior to a highest Being which exists in fact as well as in
thought.' This reasoning found unfavorable critics even among
the contemporaries of Anselm, and has commended itself com
pletely to few. Yet it may fairly be doubted whether it has been
conclusively refuted, and some of the objections most frequently
urged against it are certainly inadmissible. It is no answer to it,
for example, to deny that the idea of God is innate or universal.
The argument merely assumes that he who denies that there is a
God must have an idea of God. There is also no force, as Anselm
showed, in the objection of Gaunilo, that the existence of God can
no more be inferred from the idea of a perfect being, than the ex
istence of a perfect island is to be inferred from the idea of such
an island. There neither is nor can be an idea of an island which
is greater and better than any other that can ever be conceived.
Anselm could safely promise that he would make Gaunilo a present
of such an island when he had really imagined it. Only one being
— an infinite, independent, necessary being — can be perfect in the
sense of being greater and better than every other conceivable
being. The objection that the ideal can never logically yield the
real — that the transition from thought to fact must be in every
instance illegitimate — is merely an assertion that the argument is
fallacious. It is an assertion which cannot fairly be made until the
argument has been exposed and refuted. The argument is that a
certain thought of God is found necessarily to imply His existence.
The objection that existence is not a predicate, and that the idea
of a God who exists is not more complete and perfect than the
idea of a God who does not exist, is, perhaps, not incapable of
being satisfactorily repelled. Mere existence is not a predicate,
but specifications or determinations of existence are predicable.
Now the argument nowhere implies that existence is a predicate;
it implies only that reality, necessity, and independence of exist
ence are predicates of existence ; and it implies this on the ground
that existence in re can be distinguished from existence in con-
ceptu, necessary from contingent existence, self-existence from de
rived existence. Specific distinctions must surely admit of being
INTRODUCTION. XXV
predicated. That the exclusion of existence — which here means
real and necessary existence — from the idea of God does not leave
us with an incomplete idea of God, is not a position, I think, which
can be maintained. Take away existence from among the elements
in the idea of a perfect being, and the idea becomes either the
idea of a nonentity or the idea of an idea, and not the idea of a
perfect being at all. Thus, the argument of Anselm is unwar
rantably represented as an argument of four terms instead of three.
Those who urge the objection seem to me to prove only that if our
thought of God be imperfect, a being who merely realised that
thought would be an imperfect being ; but there is a vast distance
between this truism and the paradox that an unreal being may be
an ideally perfect being."
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Patrologiee Cursus Completus. Series Secunda. Tomi CLVIII-
CLIX. S. Anselmus. [Ed. ABB^ MIGNE]. Paris, 1853.
CHURCH. A. W. St. Anselm. [Third Edition]. London, 1873
FRANCK, G, F. Anselm von Canterbury. Tubingen, 1842.
HASSK, F. R. Anselm von Canterbury. Leipzig, 1843. 2 vol-
The same. Translated and abridged by W. Turner. Lon
don, 1850.
REMUSAT, CHARLES DB. Anselme de Canterbury. Paris, 1854 ;
anded., 1868.
RIGG, J. M. St. Anselm of Canterbury. London, 1896.
RULE M. The Life and Times of St. Anselm. London, 1883.
2 volumes.
DE VOSGES, LE COMTE DOMET. Saint Anselme, in the series Les
Grands Philosophes. Paris, 1901.
WELCH, A. C. Anselm and His Work. Edinburgh, 1901.
BAUR, F. C. Vorlesungen uber die christliche Dogmengeschichte.
Leipzig, 1866. Zweiter Band, 249-251, 298 ff.
ERDMANN, J. E. A History of Philosophy. English Transla
tion [Ed. W. S. HOUGH]. London, 1891. Vol. I.. 303-314.
XXVI INTRODUCTION.
HEGEL, G. W. F. Lectures on the History of Philosophy. Trans
lated from the German by E. S. Haldane and F. H. Sim-
son. London, 1896. Vol. III., 61-67.
HOOK, W. T. Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury. London,
1862. Vol. VIII., 169-276.
MAURICE, F. D. Moral and Metaphysical Philosophy. London,
1882. Vol. I., 5°7-533-
PFLEIDERER, O. The Philosophy of Religion. Translated by
A. Menzies. London, 1888. Vol. III., 271-276.
UEBERWEG, F.1 History of Philosophy. Translated by G. S.
Morris. New York, 1892. Vol. I., 377-386.
lUeberweg gives the titles of German and Latin dissertations on Anselm
not included in this list.
PROSLOGIUM. MONOLOGIUM.
AN APPENDIX IN BEHALF OF THE
FOOL BY GAUNILON.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PROSLOGIUM.
PAGE
Preface i
I. Exhortation of the mind to the contemplation of God. 3
II. Truly there is a God, although the fool hath said in
his heart, etc 7
III. God cannot be conceived not to exist 8
IV. How the fool has said in his heart what cannot be
conceived 9
V. God, as the only self-existent being, creates all things
from nothing 10
VI. How God is sensible (sensibilis) although he is not a
body ii
VII. How he is omnipotent, although there are many things
of which he is not capable 12
VIII. How he is compassionate and passionless 13
IX. How God is supremely just 14
X. How he justly punishes and justly spares the wicked. 17
XI. How all the ways of God are compassion and truth ;
and yet God is just in all his ways 18
XII. God is the very life whereby he lives 19
XIII. How he alone is uncircumscribed and eternal 19
XIV. How and why God is seen and yet not seen by those
who seek him / 20 ;
XV. He is greater than can be conceived (22)
XVI. This is the unapproachable light wherein he dwells. . 22
XVII. In God is harmony, etc 23
XVIII. God is life, wisdom, eternity, and every true good. . . 23
XIX. He does not exist in place or time, but all things exist
in him 25
XX. He exists before all things and transcends all things,
even the eternal things 26
XXX TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
XXI. Is this the age of the age, or ages of ages 27
XXII. He alone in what he is and who he is 27
XXIII. This good is equally Father, and Son and Holy Spirit 28,.
XXIV. Conjecture as to the character and the magnitude of
this good 29
XXV. What goods, and how great, belong to those who enjoy
this good 30
XXVI. Is this joy which the Lord promises made full 33
MONOLOGIUM.
Preface 35
I. There is a being which is best, and greatest, and high
est of all existing beings 37
II. The same subject continued 40
III. There is a certain Nature through which whatever is
exists, etc 41
IV. The same subject continued 43
V. Just as this Nature exists through itself, and other
beings through it, so it derives existence from it
self, and other beings from it 45
VI. This Nature was not brought into existence with the
help of any external cause, yet it does not exist
through nothing, or derive existence from nothing. 46
VII. In what way all other beings exist through this Nature
and derive existence from it 49
VIII. How it is to be understood that this Nature created all -
things from nothing „ , . . „ 52
IX. Those things which were created from nothing had an
existence before their creation in the thought of the
Creator ..„,...„ , . . 55
X. This thought is a kind of expression of the thoughts
created (locuffo rerum), like the expression which
an artisan forms in his mind for what he intends to
make „ 56
XI. The analogy, however, between the expression of the
Creator and the expression of the artisan is very
complete 58
XII. This expression of the supreme Being is the supreme
Being 59
TABLE OF CONTENTS. XXXI
PAGE
XIII. As all things were created through the supreme
Being, so all live through it 60
XIV. This Being is in all things, and throughout all 60
XV. What can or cannot be stated concerning the sub
stance of this Being 61
XVI. For this Being it is the same to be just that it is to
be justice 64
XVII. It is simple in such a way that all things that can
be said of its essence are one and the same in it. 66
XVIII. It is without beginning and without end 68
XIX. In what sense nothing existed before or will exist
after this Being ,^o N,
XX. It exists in every place and at every time <. 72
XXI. It exists in no place or time 73
XXII. How it exists in every place and time, and in none. 78
XXIII. How it is better conceived to exist everywhere than
in every place 82
XXIV. How it is better understood to exist always than at
every time 82
XXV. It cannot suffer change by any accidents 84
XXVI. How this Being is said to be substance 85
XXVII. It is not included among substances as commonly
treated, yet it is a substance and an indivisible
spirit 86
XXVIII. This Spirit exists simply, and created beings are not
comparable with him 87
XXIX. His expression is identical with himself, and con-
substantial with him 89
XXX. This expression does not consist of more words than
one, but is one Word go
XXXI. This Word itself is not the likeness of created beings,
but the reality of their being 91
XXXII. The supreme Spirit expresses himself by a coeternal
Word 94
XXXIII. He utters himself and what he creates by a single
consubstantial Word 95
XXXIV. How he can express the created world by his Word 98
XXXV. Whatever has been created is in his Word and
knowledge, life and truth 99
XXXVI. In how incomprehensible a way he expresses or
knows the objects created by him 99
XXX11 TABLE OF CONTENTS. *
XXXVII. Whatever his relations to his creatures, this rela
tion his Word also sustains 100
XXXVIII. It cannot be explained why they are two, although
they must be so 101
XXXIX. This Word derives existence from the supreme
Spirit by birth 102
XL. He is most truly a parent, and that Word his off
spring 103
XLI. He most truly begets, and it is most truly begotten 104
XLII. It is the property of the one to be most truly pro
genitor and Father, and of the other to be begot
ten and Son 104
XLII!. Consideration of the common attributes of both
and the individual properties of each 106
XLIV. How one is the essence of the other 107
XLV. The Son may more appropriately be called the
essence of the Father, than the Father the es
sence of the son no
XLVI. How some of these truths which are thus ex
pounded may also be conceived of in another
way in
XLVII. The Son is the intelligence of intelligence and the
truth of truth in
XLVIII. How the Son is the intelligence or wisdom of mem
ory or the memory of the Father and of memory 112
XLIX. The supreme Spirit loves himself 113
L. The same love proceeds equally from Father and
Son 114
LI. Each loves himself and the other with equal love. 114
LII. This love is as great as the supreme Spirit himself 115
LIU. This Love is identical with the supreme Spirit, and
yet it is itself with the Father and the Son one
spirit 115
LIV. It proceeds as a ^vhole from the Father, and as a
whole from the Son, and yet does not exist ex
cept as one love 1 16
LV. This love is not their Son 117
LVI. Only the Father begets and is unbegotten ; only
the Son is begotten ; only love neither begotten
nor unbegotten „ 118
TABLE OF CONTENTS. XXX111
PAGE
LVII. This love is uncreated and creator, as are Father
and Son ; it may be called the Spirit of Father
and Son 119
LVIII. As the Son is the essence or wisdom of the Father
in the sense that he has the same essence or wis
dom that the Father has ; so likewise the Spirit
is the essence and wisdom etc. of Father and
Son 120
LIX. The Father and the Son and their Spirit exist
equally the one in the other 120
LX. To none of these is another necessary that he may
remember, conceive, or love 121
LXI. Yet there are not three, but one Father and one
Son and one Spirit 122
LXII. How it seems that of these three more sons than
one are born 123
LXIII. How among them there is only one Son of one Fa
ther, that is, one Word, and that from the Father
alone 125
LXIV. Though this truth is inexplicable, it demands be
lief 127
LXV. How real truth may be reached in the discussion
of an ineffable subject 128
LXVI. Through the rational mind is the nearest approach
to the supreme Being 131
LXVII. The mind itself is the mirror and image of that
Being 132
LXVIII. The rational creature was created in order that it
might love this Being 132
LXIX. The soul that ever loves this Essence lives at some
time in true blessedness 134
LXX. This Being gives itself in return to the creature
that loves it, that that creature may be eternally
blessed 135
LXXI. The soul that despises this being will be eternally
miserable 137
LXXII. Every human soul is immortal. And it is either
forever miserable, or at some time truly blessed. 138
LXXIII. No soul is unjustly deprived of the supreme good,
and every effort must be directed toward that
good 138
XXXIV TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
LXXIV. The supreme Being is to be hoped for 139
LXXV. We must believe in this Being, that is, by believ
ing we must reach for it , , , „ . „ . 139
LXXVI. We should believe in Father and Son and in their
Spirit equally, and in each separately, and in the
three at once „ 140
LXXVII. What is living and what dead faith 141
LXXVIII. The supreme Being may in some sort be called
Three 142
LXXIX. The Essence itself is God, who alone is lord and
ruler of all „ 143
APPENDIX.
IN BEHALF OF THE FOOL.
An answer to the argument of Anselm in the Proslogium. By
Gaunilon 145
ANSELM'S APOLOGETIC.
I. A general refutation of Gaunilon's argument. It is
shown that a being than which a greater cannot be
conceived exists in reality 153
II. The argument is continued. It is shown that a being
than which a greater is inconceivable can be con
ceived, and also in so far, exists 157
III. A criticism of Gaunilon's example, in which he tries to
show that in this way the real existence of a lost
island might be inferred from the fact of its being
conceived 158
IV. The difference between the possibility of conceiving of
non-existence, and understanding non-existence 159
V. A particular discussion of certain statements of Gauni
lon's 161
VI. A discussion of Gaunilon's argument, that any unreal
beings can be understood in the same way, and would,
to that extent, exist 164
VII. In answer to another objection ; that the supremely
great being may be conceived not to exist, just as by
the fool God is conceived not to exist 165
TABLE OF CONTENTS. XXXV
PAGE
VIII. The example of the picture, treated in Gaunilon's third
chapter, is examined. — From what source a notion
may be formed of the supremely great being of which
Gaunilon inquired in his fourth chapter 166
IX. The possibility of understanding and conceiving of the
supremely great being. The argument advanced
against the fool is confirmed 168
X. The certainty of the foregoing argument. — The conclu
sion of the book 169
ANSELM'S PROSLOGIUM
OR DISCOURSE ON THE EXISTENCE OF GOD
PREFACE.
In this brief work the author aims at proving in a single argument
the existence of God, and whatsoever we believe of God. — The
difficulty of the task. — The author writes in the person of one
who contemplates God, and seeks to understand what he be
lieves. To this work he had given this title : Faith Seeking
Understanding. He finally named it Proslogium, — that is,
A Discourse.
AFTER I had published, at the solicitous entreaties
of certain brethren, a brief work (the Monologiuni) as
an example of meditation on the grounds of faith, in
the person of one who investigates, in a course of silent
reasoning with himself, matters of which he is igno
rant ; considering that this book was knit together by
the linking of many arguments, I began to ask myself
whether there might be found a single argument which
would require no other for its proof than, jts.elf ajone;
and alone would suffice to demonstrate that God truly
exists, and that there is a supreme good requiring
nothing else, which all other things require for their,
existence and well-being ; and whatever we believe
regarding the divine Being.
Although I often and earnestly directed my thought
to this end, and at some times that which I sought
, * H
L
seemed to be just within my reach, while again it
wholly evaded my mental vision, at last in despair I
was about to cease, as if from the search for a thing
which could not be found. But when I wished to ex
clude this thought altogether, lest, by busying my
mind to no purpose, it should keep me from other
thoughts, in which I might be successful ; then more
and more, though I was unwilling and shunned it, it
began to force itself upon me, with a kind of impor
tunity. So, one day, when I was exceedingly wearied
with resisting its importunity, in the very conflict of
my thoughts, the proof of which I had despaired
offered itself, so that I eagerly embraced the thoughts
which I was strenuously repelling.
Thinking, therefore, that what I rejoiced to have
found, would, if put in writing, be welcome to some
readers, of this very matter, and of some others, I
have written the following treatise, in the person of
one who strives to lift his mind to the contemplation
of God, and seeks to understand what he believes.
In my judgment, neither this work nor the other, which
I mentioned above, deserved to be called a book, or to
bear the name of an author ; and yet I thought they
ought not to be sent forth without some title by which
they might, in some sort, invite one into whose hands
they fell to their perusal. I accordingly gave each
a title, that the first might be known as, An Ex
ample of Meditation on the Grounds of Faith, and its
sequel as,. Faith Seeking Understanding. But, after
both had "been copied by many under these titles,
many urged me, and especially Hugo, the reverend
Archbishop of Lyons, who discharges the apostolic
office in Gaul, who instructed me to this effect on his
apostolic authority — to prefix my name to these writ-
PROSLOGIUM.
ings. And that this might be done more fitly, I named
the first, Monologium, that is, A Soliloquy ; but the
second, Proslogium, that is, A Discourse.
CHAPTER I.
Exhortation of the mind to the contemplation of God. — It casts
aside cares, and excludes all thoughts save that of God, that
it may seek Him. Man was created to see God. Man by sin
lost the blessedness for which he was made, and found the
misery for which he was not made. He did not keep this
good when he could keep it easily. Without God it is ill with
us. Our labors and attempts are in vain without God. Man
cannot seek God, unless God himself teaches him ; nor find
him, unless he reveals himself. God created man in his image,
that he might be mindful of him, think of him, and love him.
The believer does not seek to understand, that he may be
lieve, but he believes that he may understand : for unless he
believed he would not understand.
UP now, slight man ! flee, for a little while, thy
occupations; hide thyself, for a time, from thy dis
turbing thoughts. Cast aside, now, thy burdensome
cares, and put away thy toilsome business. Yield
room for some little time to God ; and rest for a little
time in him. Enter the inner chamber of thy mind;
shut out all thoughts save that of God, and such as
can aid thee in seeking him ; close thy door and seek
him. Speak now, my whole heart ! speak now to
God, saying, I seek thy face ; thy face, Lord, will I
seek (Psalms xxvii. 8). And come thou now, O Lord
my God, teach my heart where and how it may seek
thee, where and how it may find thee.
Lord, if thou art not here, where shall I seek thee,
being absent? But if thou art everywhere, why do I
not see thee present? Truly thou dwellest in unap-
iv^V*
proachable light. But where is unapproachable light,
or how shall I come to it? Or who shall lead me to
that light and into it, that I may see thee in it? Again,
by what marks, under what form, shall I seek thee?
I have never seen thee, O Lord, my God ; I do not
know thy form. What, O most high Lord, shall this
man do, an exile far from thee? What shall thy ser
vant do, anxious in his love of thee, and cast out afar
from thy face? He pants to see thee, and thy face is
too far from him. He longs to come to thee, and thy
dwelling-place is inaccessible. He is eager to find
thee, and knows not thy place. He desires to seek
thee, and does not know thy face. Lord, thou art my
God, and thou art my Lord, and never have I seen
thee. It is thou that hast made me, and hast made
me anew, and hast bestowed upon me all the blessings
I enjoy; and not yet do I know thee. Finally, I was
created to see thee, and not yet have I done that for
which I was made.
O wretched lot of man, when he hath lost that for
which he was made ! O hard and terrible fate ! Alas,
what has he lost, and what has he found? What has
departed, and what remains? He has lost the blessed
ness for which he was made, and has found the misery
for which he was not made. That has departed with
out which nothing is happy, and that remains which,
itself, is only miserable. Man once did eat the
read of angels, for which he hungers now; he eateth
now the bread of sorrows, of which he knew not then.
Alas ! for the mourning of all mankind, for the uni
versal lamentation of the sons of Hades ! He choked
with satiety, we sigh with hunger. He abounded, we
beg. He possessed in happiness, and miserably for
sook his possession ; we suffer want in unhappiness,
PROSLOGIUM. 5
and feel a miserable longing, and alas ! we remain
empty.
Why did he not keep for us, when he could so
easily, that whose lack we should feel so heavily?
Why did he shut us away from the light, and cover
us over with darkness? With what purpose did he
rob us of life, and inflict death upon us? Wretches
that we are, whence have we been driven out ; whither
are we driven on? Whence hurled? Whither con
signed to ruin? From a native country into exile,
from the vision of God into our present blindness,
from the joy of immortality into the bitterness and
horror of death. Miserable exchange of how great a
good, for how great an evil ! Heavy loss, heavy grief
heavy all our fate !
But alas ! wretched that I am, one of the sons of
Eve, far removed from God ! What have I under
taken? What have I accomplished? Whither was I
striving? How far have I come? To what did I as
pire? Amid what thoughts am I sighing? I sought
blessings, and lo ! confusion. I strove toward God,
and I stumbled on myself. I sought calm in privacy,
and I found tribulation and grief, in my inmost
thoughts. I wished to smile in the joy of my mind,
and I am compelled to frown by the sorrow of my
heart. Gladness was hoped for, and lo ! a source of
frequent sighs !
And thou too, O Lord, how long? How long, O %Jt
Lord, dost thou forget us; how long dost thou turn
thy face from us? When wilt thou look upon us, and
hear us? When wilt thou enlighten our eyes, and
show us thy face? When wilt thou restore thyself to
us? Look upon us, Lord; hear us, enlighten us, re
veal thyself to us. Restore thyself to us, that it may
be well with us, — thyself, without whom it is so ill
with us. Pity our toilings and strivings toward thee,
since we can do nothing without thee. Thou dost in
vite us ; do thou help us. I beseech thee, O Lord,
that I may not lose hope in sighs, but may breathe
anew in hope. Lord, my heart is made bitter by its
desolation ; sweeten thou it, I beseech thee, with thy
consolation. Lord, in hunger I began to seek thee ; I
beseech thee that I may not cease to hunger for thee.
In hunger I have come to thee; let me not go unfed.
I have come in poverty to the Rich, in misery to the
Compassionate; let me not return empty and de
spised. And if, before I eat, I sigh, grant, even after
sighs, that which I may eat. Lord, I am bowed down
and can only look downward ; raise me up that I may
look upward. My iniquities have gone over my head;
they overwhelm me ; and, like a heavy load, they
weigh me down. Free me from them ; unburden me,
that the pit of iniquities may not close over me.
Be it mine to look up to thy light, even from afar,
even from the depths. Teach me to seek thee, and
reveal thyself to me, when I seek thee, for I cannot
seek thee, except thou teach me, nor find thee, except
thou reveal thyself. Let me seek thee in longing, let
me long for thee in seeking; let me find thee in love,
and love thee in finding. Lord, I acknowledge and
I thank thee that thou hast created me in this thine
image, in order that I may be mindful of thee, may
conceive of thee, and love thee; but that image has
been so consumed and wasted away by vices, and ob
scured by the smoke of wrong-doing, that it cannot
achieve that for which it was made, except thou re
new it, and create it anew. I do not endeavor, O
Lord, to penetrate thy sublimity, for in no wise do I
PROSLOGIUM.
compare my understanding with that ; but I long to
understand in some degree thy truth, which my heart
believes and loves. For I do not seek to understand
that I may believe, but),JWlnub^jieye in orderwtowJ1^^i£JC•J
stand. For this also I believe, — that unless I be-
leved, 1 should not understand.
CHAPTER II.
Truly there is a God, although the fool hath said in his heart,
There is no God.
AND so, Lord, do thou, who dost give understand-]
ing to faith, give me, so far as thou knowest it to be
profitable, to understand that thou art as we believe;
and that thou art that which we believe. Anjd^
deed, we belieye that thou art a being than which,
nothing grcaUr can be conceived. Or is there no sti
nature, since the fool hath said in his heart, there
is no God? (Psalms xiv. i). But, at any rate, this
very fool, when he hears of this being of which I
speak— a bei<ng than which nothing greater can be
conceived— ^understands what he hears, and what he
he
hejfe
understands is in his understanding; although
does not understand it to exist.
For, it is one thing for an object to be in the un
derstanding, and another to understand that the ob
ject exists. When a painter first conceives of what j/->
he will afterwards perform, he has it in his under
standing, but he does not yet understand it to be, be
cause he has not yet. performed it. But after he has
made the painting, he both has it in his understand
ing, and he understands that it exists, because he has
made it.
Hence, even the fool is convinced that something
inthejin^.e.r^tajidjng, at least, than which noth
ing greater can be conceived. For, when he hears of
this, he understands it. And whatever is understood,
> exists in the understanding. And assuredlyjhat, than
in the understanding alone. For, suppose it exists in
I i t^le understanding alone : then it can be conceived to
: exist in reality; w^ncl^s^^greaten '*'••'
Therefore, if that, than which nothing greater can
be conceived, exists in the understanding alone, the
very being, than which nothing greater can be con
ceived, is one, than which a greater can be conceived.
But obviously this is impossible. Hence, there is no
doubt that there exists a being, than which nothing
greater can be conceived, and it exists both in the
understanding and in reality.
*
CHAPTER III.
God cannot be conceived not to exist. — God is that, than which
nothing greater can be conceived. — That which can be con
ceived not to exist is not God.
AND it assuredly exists so truly, that it cannot be
conceived not to exist. For, it is possible to conceive
of a being which cannot be conceived not to exist;
and this is greater than one which can be conceived
not to exist. Hence, if that, than which nothing
greater can be conceived, can be conceived not to ex
ist, it is not that, than which nothing greater can be
conceived. But this is an irreconcilable contradiction.
There is, then, so truly a being than which nothing
greater can be conceived to exist, that it cannot even
PROSLOGIUM. 9
be conceived not to exist ; and this being thou art, O
Lord, our God.
So truly, therefore, dost thou exist, O Lord, my
God, that thou canst not be conceived not to exist;
and rightly. For, if a mind could conceive of a being
better than thee, the creature would rise above the
Creator; and this is most absurd. And, indeed, what
ever else there is, except thee alone, can be conceived
not to exist. To thee alone, therefore, it belongs to
exist more truly than all other beings, and hence in a
higher degree than all others. For, whatever else ex
ists does not exist so truly, and hence in a less degree
it belongs to it to exist. Why, then, has the fool said
in his heart, there is no God (Psalms xiv. i), since
it is so evident, to a rational mind, that thou dost
exist in the highest degree of all? Why, except that
he is dull and a fool?
CHAPTER IV.
How the fool has said in his heart what cannot be conceived. — A
thing may be conceived in two ways: (i) when the word sig
nifying it is conceived ; (2) when the thing itself is understood
As far as the word goes, God can be conceived not to exist;
in reality he cannot.
BUT how has the fool said in his heart what he
could not conceive ; or how is it that he could not
conceive what he said in his heart? since it is the
same to say in the heart, and to conceive.
But, if really, nay, since really, he both conceived,
because he said in his heart; and did not say in his
heart, because he could not conceive; there is more
than one way in which a thing is said in the heart or
conceived. For, in one sense, an object is conceived,*
when the word signifying it is conceived; and in an- |f>
other, when the very entity, which the object is, is J •
understood. < t
In the former sense, then, God can be conceived
not to exist; but in the latter, not at all. For no one
who understands what fire and water are can conceive
fire to be water, in accordance with the nature of the
facts themselves, although this is possible according
to the words. So, then, no one who understands what
God is can conceive that God does not exist ; although^"
he says these words in his heart, either without any.
or with some foreign, signification. For, God is thatj
than which a greater cannot be conceived. And he
who thoroughly understands this, assuredly under
stands that this being so truly exists, that not even in
concept can it be non-existent. Therefore, he who
understands that God so exists, cannot conceive that
he does not exist.
I thank thee, gracious Lord, I thank thee ; be
cause what I formerly believed by thy bounty, I now
so understand by thine illumination, that if I were un
willing to believe that thou dost exist, I should not be
able not to understand this to be true.
CHAPTER V.
God is whatever it is better to be than not to be ; and he, as the
only self-existent being, creates all things from nothing.
WHAT art thou, then, Lord God, than whom noth
ing greater can be conceived? But what art thou,
except that which, as the highest of all beings, alone
exists through itself, and creates all other things from
nothing? For, whatever is not this is less than a thing
which can be conceived of. But this cannot be con-
PROSLOGIUM. II
ceived of thee. What good, therefore, does the su
preme Good lack, through which every good is?
Therefore, thou art just, truthful, blessed, and what
ever it is better to be than not to be. For it is better
to be just than not just; better to be blessed than not
blessed.
CHAPTER VI.
How God is sensible (sensibilis) although he is not a body.— God
is sensible, omnipotent, compassionate, passionless; for it is
better to be these than not be. He who in any way knows,
is not improperly said in some sort to feel.
BUT, although it is better for thee to be sensible,
omnipotent, compassionate, passionless, than not to
be these things ; how art thou sensible, if thou art not
a body; or omnipotent, if thou hast not all powers;
or at once compassionate and passionless? For, if
only corporeal things are sensible, since the senses
encompass a body and are in a body, how art thou
sensible, although thou art not a body, but a supreme
Spirit, who is superior to body? But, if feeling is
only cognition, or for the sake of cognition, — for he
who feels obtains knowledge in accordance with the
proper functions of his senses ; as through sight, of
colors; through taste, of flavors, — whatever in any
way cognises is not inappropriately said, in some sort,
to feel.
Therefore, O Lord, although thou art not a body,
yet thou art truly sensible in the highest degree in re
spect of this, that thou dost cognise all things in the
highest degree ; and not as an animal cognises, through
a corporeal sense.
CHAPTER VII.
How he is omnipotent, although there are many things of which
he is not capable. — To be capable of being corrupted, or of
lying, is not power, but impotence. God can do nothing by
virtue of impotence, and nothing has power against him.
BUT how art thou omnipotent, if thou art not
capable of all things? Or, if thou canst not be cor
rupted, and canst not lie, nor make what is true, false
— as, for example, if thou shouldst make what has
been done not to have been done, and the like — how
art thou capable of all things? Or else to be capable
of these things is not power, but impotence. For, he
who is capable of these things is capable of what is
not for his good, and of what he ought not to do ; and
the more capable of them he is, the more power have
adversity and perversity against him; and the less
has he himself against these.
He, then, who if. thus canablo is so not by power,
but by impotence For, he is not said to be able be
cause he is able of himself, but because his impotence
gives something else power over him. Or, by a figure
of speech, just as many words are improperly applied,
as when we use "to be" for "not to be," and "to
do" for what is really "not to do," or "to do noth
ing." For, often we say to a man who denies the
existence of something: "It is as you say it to be,"
though it might seem more proper to say, "It is not,
as you say it is not." In the same way, we say:
"This man sits just as that man does," or, "This
man rests just as that man does"; although to sit is
not to do anything, and to rest is to do nothing.
So, then, when one is said to have the power of
PROSLOGIUM. 13
doing or experiencing what is not for his good, or
what he ought not to do, impotence is understood in
the word power. For, the more he possesses this
power, the more powerful are adversity and perversity
against him, and the more powerless is he against
them.
Therefore, O Lord, our God, the more truly art
thou omnipotent, since thou art capable of nothing
through impotence, and nothing has power against
thee.
CHAPTER VIII.
How he is compassionate and passionless. God is compassionate,
in terms of our experience, because we experience the effect
of compassion. God is not compassionate, in terms of his
own being, because he does not experience the feeling (affec-
tus) of compassion.
BUT how art thou compassionate, and, at the same
time, passionless? For, if thou art passionless, thou
dost not feel sympathy ; and if thou dost not feel
sympathy, thy heart is not wretched from sympathy
for the wretched ; but this it is to be compassionate.
But if thou art not compassionate, whence cometh so
great consolation to the wretched? How, then, art
thou compassionate and not compassionate, O Lord,
unless because thou art compassionate in terms of
our experience, and not compassionate in terms of
thy being.
Truly, thou art so in terms of our experience, but
thou art. not so in terms of thine own. For, when
thou beholdest us in our wretchedness, we experience
the effect of compassion, but thou dost not experience
the feeling. Therefore, thou art both compassionate,
because thou dost save the wretched, and spare those
14 ANSELM.
who sin against thee ; and not compassionate, because
thou art affected by no sympathy for wretchedness.
CHAPTER IX.
How the all-just and supremely just God spares the wicked, and
justly pities the wicked. He is better who is good to the
righteous and the wicked than he who is good to the righteous
alone. Although God is supremely just, the source of his
compassion is hidden. God is supremely compassionate, be
cause he is supremely just. He saveth the just, because jus
tice goes with them ; he frees sinners by the authority of jus
tice. God spares the wicked out of justice ; for it is just that
God, than whom none is better or more powerful, should be
good even to the wicked, and should make the wicked good.
If God ought not to pity, he pities unjustly. But this it is
impious to suppose. Therefore, God justly pities.
BUT how dost thou spare the wicked, if thou art
all just and supremely just? For how, being all just
and supremely just, dost thou aught that is not just?
Or, what justice is that to give him who merits eter
nal death everlasting life? How, then, gracious Lord,
good to the righteous and the wicked, canst thou save
the wicked, if this is not just, and thou dost not aught
that is not just? Or, since thy goodness is incompre
hensible, is this hidden in the unapproachable light
wherein thou dwellest ? Truly, in the deepest and
most secret parts of thy goodness is hidden the foun
tain whence the stream of thy compassion flows.
For thou art all just and supremely just, yet thou
art kind even to the wicked, even because thou art
all supremely good. For thou wouldst be less good
if thou wert not kind to any wicked being. For, he
who is good, both to the righteous and the wicked,
is better than he who is good to the wicked alone;
PROSL*GIUM. 15
and he who is good to the wicked, both by punishing
and sparing them, is better than he who is good by
punishing them alone. Therefore, thou art compas
sionate, because thou art all supremely good. And,
although it appears why ihou dost reward the good
with goods and the evil with evils ; yet this, at least, I
is most wonderful, why thou, the all and supremely^
just, who lackest nothing, bestowest goods on the \
wicked and on those who are guilty toward thee.
The depth of thy goodness, O God ! The source
of thy compassion appears, and yet is not clearly
seen ! We see whence the river flows, but the spring
whence it arises is not seen. For, it is from the abun
dance of thy goodness that thou art good to those
who sin against thee; and in the depth of thy good
ness is hidden the reason for this kindness.
For, although thou dost reward the good with f
goods and the evil with evils, out of goodness, yet \
this the concept of justice seems to demand. But, I
when thou dost bestow goods on the evil, and it is /
known that the supremely Good hath willed to doj
this, we wonder why the supremely Just has been/
able to will this.
O compassion, from what abundant sweetness and
what sweet abundance dost thou well forth to us ! O
boundless goodness of God, how passionately should
sinners love thee ! For thou savest the just, because
justice goeth with them ; but sinners thou dost free
by the authority of justice. Those by the help of
their deserts ; these, although their deserts oppose.
Those by acknowledging the goods thou hast granted;
these by pardoning the evils thou hatest. O bound
less goodness, which dost so exceed all understand
ing, let that compassion come upon me, which pro-
1 6 ANSELM.
ceeds from thy so great abundance ! Let it flow upon
me, for it wells forth from thee. Spare, in mercy;
avenge not, in justice.
For, though it is hard to understand how thy com
passion is not inconsistent with thy justice ; yet we
must believe that it does not oppose justice at all,
because it flows from goodness, which is no goodness
without justice; nay, that it is in true harmony with
justice. For, if thou art compassionate only because
thou art supremely good, and supremely good only
because thou art supremely just, truly thou art com
passionate even because thou art supremely just.
Help me, just and compassionate God, whose light I
seek ; help me to understand what I say.
Truly, then, thou art compassionate even because
thou art just. Is, then, thy compassion born of thy
justice? And dost thou spare the wicked, therefore,
out of justice? If this is true, my Lord, if this is true,
teach me how it is. Is it because it is just, that thou
shouldst be so good that thou canst not be conceived
better ; and that thou shouldst work so powerfully
that thou canst not be conceived more powerful? For
what can be more just than this? Assuredly it could
not be that thou shouldst be good only by requiting
(retribuendo} and not by sparing, and that thou shouldst
make good only those who are not good, and not the
wicked also. In this way, therefore, it is just that
thou shouldst spare the wicked, and make good souls
of evil.
Finally, what is not done justly ought not to be
done; and what ought not to be done is done un
justly. If, then, thou dost not justly pity the wicked,
thou oughtest not to pity them. And, if thou oughtest
not to pity them, thou pityest them unjustly. And if
PROSLOGIUM. 17
it is impious to suppose this, it is right to believe that
thou justly pityest the wicked.
CHAPTER X.
How he justly punishes and justly spares the wicked. — God, in
sparing the wicked, is just, according to his own nature, be
cause he does what is consistent with his goodness ; but he is
not just, according to our nature, because he does not inflict
the punishment deserved.
BUT it is also just that thou shouldst punish the
wicked. For what is more just than that the good
should receive goods, and the evil, evils? How, then,
is it just that thou shouldst punish the wicked, and,
at the same time, spare the wicked? Or, in one way,
dost thou justly punish, and, in another, justly spare
them? For, when thou punishest the wicked, it is
just, because it is consistent with their deserts ; and
when, on the other hand, thou sparest the wicked, it
is just, not because it is compatible with their deserts,
but because it is compatible with thy goodness.
For, in sparing the wicked, thou art as just, ac
cording to thy nature, but not according to ours, as
thou art compassionate, according to our nature, and
not according to thine ; seeing that, as in saving us,
whom it would be just for thee to destroy, thou art
compassionate, not because thou feelest an affection
(affecturri), but because we feel the effect (effectual] ;
so thou art just, not because thou requitest us as we
deserve, but because thou dost that which becomes
thee as the supremely good Being. In this way,
therefore, without contradiction thou dost justly pun
ish and justly spare.
l8 ANSELM.
CHAPTER XI.
How all the ways of God are compassion and truth ; and yet God
is just in all his ways. — We cannot comprehend why, of the
wicked, he saves these rather than those, through his supreme
goodness ; and condemns those rather than these, through his
supreme justice.
BUT, is there any reason why it is not also just,
according to thy nature, O Lord, that thou shouldst
punish the wicked ? Surely it is just that thou shouldst
be so just that thou canst not be conceived more just ;\
and this thou wouldst in no wise be if thou didst only
render goods to the good, and not evils to the evil.
For, he who requiteth both good and evil according
to their deserts is more just than he who so requites
the good alone. It is, therefore, just, according to
thy nature, O just and gracious God, both when thou
dost punish and when thou sparest.
. Truly, then, all the paths of the Lord are mercy
and truth (Psalms xxv. 10); and yet the Lord is right
eous in all his ways (Psalms cxlv. 17). And assuredly
without inconsistency : For, it is not just that those
whom thou dost will to punish should be saved, and
that those whom thou dost will to spare should be
condemned. For that alone is just which thou dost
will; and that alone unjust which thou dost not will.
So, then, thy compassion is born of thy justice.
For it is just that thou shouldst be so good that
thou art good in sparing also ; and this may be the
reason why the supremely Just can will goods for the
evil. But if it can be comprehended in any way why
thou canst will to save the wicked, yet by no consid
eration can we comprehend why, of those who are
PROSLOGIUM. ig
alike wicked, thou savest some rather than others,
through supreme goodness ; and why thou dost con
demn the latter rather than the former, through su
preme justice.
So, then, thou art truly sensible (sensibilis}, om
nipotent, compassionate, and passionless, as thou art
living, wise, good, blessed, eternal : and whatever it
is better to be than not to be.
CHAPTER XII.
God is the very life vrhereby he lives ; and so of other like attri
butes.
BUT undoubtedly, whatever thou art, thou art
through nothing else than thyself. Therefore, thou
art the very life whereby thou livest ; and the wisdom
wherewith thou art wise ; and the very goodness
whereby thou art good to the righteous and the
wicked ; and so of other like attributes.
CHAPTER XIII.
How he alone is uncircumscribed and eternal, although other
spirits are uncircumscribed and eternal. — No place and time
contain God. But he is himself everywhere and always. He
alone not only does not cease to be, but also does not begin
to be.
BUT everything that is in any way bounded by
place or time is less than that which no law of place
or time limits. Since, then, nothing is greater than
thou, no place or time contains thee ; but thou art
everywhere and always. And since this can be said
of thee alone, thou alone art uncircumscribed and
eternal. How is it, then, that other spirits also are
said to be uncircumscribed and eternal?
Assuredly thou art alone eternal ; for thou alone
among all beings not only dost not cease to be, but
also dost not begin to be.
But how art thou alone uncircumscribed? Is it
that a created spirit, when compared with thee, is
circumscribed, but when compared with matter, un
circumscribed? For altogether circumscribed is that
which, when it is wholly in one place, cannot at the
same time be in another. And this is seen to be true
of corporeal things alone. But uncircumscribed is
that which is, as a whole, at the same time every
where. And this is understood to be true of thee
alone. But circumscribed, and, at the same time,
uncircumscribed is that which, when it is anywhere as
a whole, can at the same time be somewhere else as a
whole, and yet not everywhere. And this is recog
nised as true of created spirits. For, if the soul were
not as a whole in the separate members of the body,
it would not feel as a whole in the separate members.
Therefore, thou, Lord, art peculiarly uncircum
scribed and eternal ; and yet other spirits also are un
circumscribed and eternal.
CHAPTER XIV.
How and why God is seen and yet not seen by those who seek
him.
HAST thou found what thou didst seek, my soul?
Thou didst seek God. Thou hast found him to be a
being which is the highest of all beings, a being than
which nothing better can be conceived ; that this
being is life itself, light, wisdom, goodness, eternal
blessedness and blessed eternity ; and that it is every
where and always.
PROSLOGIUM. 21
For, if thou hast not found thy God, how is he
this being which thou hast found, and which thou
hast conceived him to be, with so certain truth and
so true certainty? But, if thou hast found him, why
is it that thou dost not feel thou hast found him?
Why, O Lord, our God, does not my soul feel thee,
if it hath found thee? Or, has it not found him whom
it found to be light and truth? For how did it under
stand this, except by seeing light and truth? Or,
could it understand anything at 'all of thee, except
through thy light and thy truth?
Hence, if it has seen light and truth, it has seen
thee ; if it has not seen thee, it has not seen light and
truth. Or, is what it has seen both light and truth ;
and still it has not yet seen thee, because it has seen
thee only in part, but has not seen thee as thou art?
Lord my God, my creator and renewer, speak to the
desire of my soul, what thou art other than it hath
seen, that it may clearly see what it desires. It strains
to see thee more ; and sees nothing beyond this which
it hath seen, except darkness. Nay, it does not see
darkness, of which there is none in thee ; but it sees
that it cannot see farther, because of its own dark
ness.
Why is this, Lord, why is this? Is the eye of the
soul darkened by its infirmity, or dazzled by thy
glory? Surely it is both darkened in itself, and daz
zled by thee. Doubtless it is both obscured by its
own insignificance, and overwhelmed by thy infinity.
Truly, it is both contracted by its own narrowness
and overcome by thy greatness.
For how great is that light from which shines
every truth that gives light to the rational mind?
How great is that truth in which is everything that is
true, and outside which is only nothingness and the
false? How boundless is the truth which sees at one
glance whatsoever has been made, and by whom, and
through whom, and how it has been made from noth
ing? What purity, what certainty, what splendor
where it is? Assuredly more than a creature can con
ceive.
CHAPTER XV.
He is greater than can be conceived.
THEREFORE, O Lord, thou art not only that than
which a greater cannot be conceived, but thou art a
being greater than can be conceived. For, since it
can be conceived that there is such a being, if thon
art not this very being, a greater than thou can be
conceived. But this is impossible.
CHAPTER XVI.
This is the unapproachable light wherein he dwells.
TRULY, O Lord, this is the unapproachable light
in which thou dwellest ; for truly there is nothing else
which can penetrate this light, that it may see thee
there. Truly, I see it not, because it is too bright for
me. And yet, whatsoever I see, I see through it, as
the weak eye sees what it sees through the light of
the sun, which in the sun itself it cannot look upon.
My understanding cannot reach that light, for it
shines too bright. It does not comprehend it, nor
does the eye of my soul endure to gaze upon it long.
It is dazzled by the brightness, it is overcome by the
greatness, it is overwhelmed by the infinity, it is
dazed by the largeness, of the light.
O supreme and unapproachable light ! O whole
PROSLOGIUM. 23
and blessed truth, how far art thou from me, who am
so near to thee ! How far removed art thou from my
vision, though I am so near to thine ! Everywhere
thou art wholly present, and I see thee not. In thee
I move, and in thee I have my being ; and I cannot
come to thee. Thou art within me, and about me,
and I feel thee not.
CHAPTER XVII.
In God is harmony, fragrance, sweetness, pleasantness to the
touch, beauty, after his ineffable manner.
STILL thou art hidden, O Lord, from my soul in
thy light and thy blessedness ; and therefore my soul
still walks in its darkness and wretchedness. For it
looks, and does not see thy beauty. It hearkens, and
does not hear thy harmony. It smells, and does not
perceive thy fragrance. It tastes, and does not recog
nise thy sweetness. It touches, and does not feel thy
pleasantness. For thou hast these attributes in thy
self, Lord God, after thine ineffable manner, who hast
given them to objects created by thee, after their
sensible manner ; but the sinful senses of my soul
have grown rigid and dull, and have been obstructed
by their long listlessness.
CHAPTER XVIII.
God is life, wisdom, eternity, and every true good. — Whatever is
composed of parts is not wholly one ; it is capable, either in
fact or in concept, of dissolution. In God wisdom, eternity,
etc., are not parts, but one, and the very whole which God is,
or unity itself, not even in concept divisible.
AND lo, again confusion ; lo, again grief and mourn
ing meet him who seeks for joy and gladness. My
24 ANSELM.
soul now hoped for satisfaction; and lo, again it is I
overwhelmed with need. I desired now to feast, and!
lo, I hunger more. I tried to rise to the light of God, ]
and I have fallen back into my darkness. Nay, not j
only have I fallen into it, but I feel that I am envel
oped in it. I fell before my mother conceived me.
Truly, in darkness I was conceived, and in the cover
of darkness I was born. Truly, in him we all fell, in
whom we all sinned. In him we all lost, who kept
easily, and wickedly lost to himself and to us that
which when we wish to seek it, we do not know ;
when we seek it, we do not find ; when we find, it is
not that which we seek.
Do thou help me for thy goodness' sake ! Lord, I
sought thy face; thy face, Lord, will I seek; hide not
thy face far from me (Psalms xxvii. 8). Free me from
myself toward thee. Cleanse, heal, sharpen, enlighten
the eye of my mind, that it may behold thee. Let
my soul recover its strength, and with all its under
standing let it strive toward thee, O Lord. What art
thou, Lord, what art thou? What shall my heart con
ceive thee to be?
Assuredly thou art life, thou art wisdom, thou art
truth, thou art goodness, thou art blessedness, thou
art eternity, and thou art every true good. Many are
these attributes : my straitened understanding can
not see so many at one view, that it may be gladdened
by all at once. How, then, O Lord, art thou all
these things? Are they parts of thee, or is each one
of these rather the whole, which thou art? For, what
ever is composed of parts is not altogether one, but is
in some sort plural, and diverse from itself; and
either in fact or in concept is capable of dissolution.
But these things are alien to thee, than whom
PROSLOGIUM.
nothing better can be conceived of. Hence, there
are no parts in thee, Lord, nor art thou more than/
one. But thou art so truly a unitary being, and sol "
identical with thyself, that in no respect art thou un-j
like thyself; rather thou art unity itself, indivisible,
by any conception. Therefore, life and wisdom and\
the rest are not parts of thee, but all are one; and
each of these is the whole, which thou art, and which!
all the rest are.
In this way, then, it appears that thou hast no/
parts, and that thy eternity, which thou art, is no
where and never a part of thee or of thy eternity. But Vv,y
everywhere thou art as a whole, and thy eternity ex
ists as a whole forever.
ft
CHAPTER XIX.
He does not exist in place or time, but all things exist in him.
BUT if through thine eternity thou hast been, and
art, and wilt be ; and to have been is not to be des
tined to be ; and to be is not to have been, or to be
destined to be ; how does thine eternity exist as a
whole forever? Or is it true that nothing of thy eter
nity passes away, so that it is not now; and that noth
ing of it is destined to be, as if it were not yet?
Thou wast not, then, yesterday, nor wilt thou be
to-morrow; but yesterday and to-day and to-morrow
thou art; or, rather, neither yesterday nor to-day nor
to-morrow thou art; but simply, thou art, outside all
time. For yesterday and to-day and to-morrow have
no existence, except in time ; but thou, although
nothing exists without thee, nevertheless dost not ex
ist in space or time, but all things exist in thee. For
nothing contains thee, but thou containest all.
26 ANSELM.
CHAPTER XX.
He exists before all things and transcends all things, even the eter
nal things. — The eternity of God is present as a whole with
him ; while other things have not yet that part of their eter
nity which is still to be, and have no longer that part which is
past.
HENCE, thou dost permeate and embrace all things.
Thou art before all, and dost transcend all. And, of
a surety, thou art before all ; for before they were
made, thou art. But how dost thou transcend all?
In what way dost thou transcend those beings which
will have no end? Is it because they cannot exist at
all without thee ; while thou art in no wise less, if
they should return to nothingness? For so, in a cer
tain sense, thou dost transcend them. Or, is it also
because they can be conceived to have an end ; but
thou by no means? For so they actually have an
end, in a certain sense; but thou, in no sense. And
certainly, what in no sense has an end transcends
what is ended in any sense. Or, in this way also
dost thou transcend all things, even the eternal, be
cause thy eternity and theirs is present as a whole
with thee; while they have not yet that part of their
eternity which is to come, just as they no longer have
that part which is past? For so thou dost ever tran
scend them, since thou art ever present with thyself,
and since that to which they have not yet come is
ever present with thee.
PROSLOGIUM. 27
CHAPTER XXI.
Is this the age of the age, or ages of ages? — The eternity of God
contains the ages of time themselves, and can be called the
age of the age or ages of ages.
Is this, then, the age of the age, or ages of ages?
For, as an age of time contains all temporal things,
so thy eternity contains even the ages of time them
selves. And these are indeed an age, because of their
indivisible unity ; but ages, because of their endless
immeasurability. And, although thou art so great,
O Lord, that all things are full of thee, and exist in
thee; yet thou art so without all space, that neither
midst, nor half, nor any part, is in thee.
CHAPTER XXII.
He alone is what he is and who he is. — All things need God for
their being and their well-being.
THEREFORE, thou alone, O Lord, art what thou
art; and thou art he who thou art. For, what is one
thing in the whole and another in the parts, and in
which there is any mutable element, is not altogether
what it is. And what begins from non-existence, and
can be conceived not to exist, and unless it subsists
through something else, returns to non-existence ;
and what has a past existence, which is no longer, or
a future existence, which is not yet, — this does not
properly and absolutely exist.
But thou art what thou art, because, whatever
thou art at any time, or in any way, thou art as a
whole and forever. And thou art he who thou art,
properly and simply ; for thou hast neither a past ex-
28
istence nor a future, but only a present existence;
nor canst thou be conceived as at any time non-exist
ent. But thou art life, and light, and wisdom, and
blessedness, and many goods of this nature. And yet
thou art only one supreme good; thou art all-suffi
cient to thyself, and needest none; and thou art he
whom all things need for their existence and well-
being.
CHAPTER XXIII.
This good is equally Father, and Son, and Holy Spirit. And this
is a single, necessary Being, which is every good, and wholly
good, and the only good.— Since the Word is true, and is truth
itself, there is nothing in the Father, who utters it, which is
not accomplished in the Word by which he expresses himself.
Neither is the love which proceeds from Father and Son un
equal to the Father or the Son, for Father and Son love them
selves and one another in the same degree in which what they
are is good. Of supreme simplicity nothing can be born, and
from it nothing can proceed, except that which is this, of
which it is born, or from which it proceeds.
THIS good thou art, thou, God the Father; this is
thy Word, that is, thy Son. For nothing, other than
what thou art, or greater or less than thou, can be in
the Word by which thou dost express thyself; for
thy Word is true, as thou art truthful. And hence it
is truth itself, just as thou art; no other truth than
thou ; and thou art of so simple a nature, that of thee
nothing can be born other than what thou art. This
very good is the one love common to thee and to thy
Son, that is, the Holy Spirit proceeding from both.
For this love is not unequal to thee or to thy Son;
seeing that thou dost love thyself and him, and he,
thee and himself, to the whole extent of thy being
and his. Nor is there aught else proceeding from
PROSLOGIUM. 29
thee and from him, which is not unequal to thee and
to him. Nor can anything proceed from the supreme
simplicity, other than what this, from which it pro
ceeds, is.
But what each is, separately, this is all the Trinity
at once, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit ; seeing that
each separately is none other than the supremely sS^r
simple unity, and the supremely unitary simplicity. \^J^ </
which can neither be multiplied nor varied. More
over, there is a single necessary Being. Now, this is
that single, necessary Being, in which is every good;
nay, which is every good, and a single entire good,
and the only good.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Conjecture as to the character and the magnitude of this
If the created life is good, how good is the creative life !
i
AND now, my soul, arouse and lift up all thy un
derstanding, and conceive, so far as thou canst, of
what character and how great is that good. For, if
individual goods are delectable, conceive in earnest
ness how delectable is that good which contains the
pleasantness of all goods; and not such as we have
experienced in created objects, but as different as the
Creator from the creature. For, if the created life is
good, how good is the creative life ! If the salvation
given is delightful, how delightful is the salvation
which has given all salvation ! If wisdom in the knowl
edge of the created world is lovely, how lovely is the
wisdom which has created all things from nothing !
Finally, if there are many great delights in delectable
things, what and how great is the delight in him who
has made these delectable things.
CHAPTER XXV.
What goods, and how great, belong to those who enjoy this good.
— Joy is multiplied in the blessed from the blessedness and
joy of others.
WHO shall enjoy this good? And what shall be
long to him, and what shall not belong to him? At
any rate, whatever he shall wish shall be his, and
whatever he shall not wish shall not be his. For,
these goods of body and soul will be such as eye hath
not seen nor ear heard, neither has the heart of man
conceived (Isaiah Ixiv. 4; I Corinthians ii. 9).
Why, then, dost thou wander abroad, slight man,
in thy search for the goods of thy soul and thy body?
Love the one good in which are all goods, and it
sufficeth. Desire the simple good which is every good,
and it is enough. For, what dost thou love, my flesh?
What dost thou desire, my soul? There, there is
whatever ye love, whatever ye desire.
If beauty delights thee, there shall the righteous
shine forth as the sun (Matthew xiii, 43). If swiftness
or endurance, or freedom of body, which naught can
withstand, delight thee, they shall be as angels of
God, — because it is sown a natural body; it is raised
a spiritual body (i Corinthians xv. 44) — in power cer
tainly, though not in nature. If it is a long and sound
life that pleases thee, there a healthful eternity is, and
an eternal health. For the righteous shall live for
ever (Wisdom v. 15), and the salvation of the righte
ous is of the Lord (Psalms xxxvii. 39). If it is satis
faction of hunger, they shall be satisfied when the
glory of the Lord hath appeared (Psalms xvii. 15).
If it is quenching of thirst, they shall be abundantly
PROSLOGIUM. 31
satisfied with the fatness of thy house (Psalms xxxvi.
8). If it is melody, there the choirs of angels sing
forever, before God. If it is any not impure, but pure,
pleasure, thou shalt make them drink of the river of
thy pleasures, O God (Psalms xxxvi. 8).
If it is wisdom that delights thee, the very wisdom
of God will reveal itself to them. If friendship, they
shall love God more than themselves, and one another
as themselves. And God shall love them more than
they themselves ; for they love him, and themselves,
and one another, through him, and he, himself and
them, through himself. If concord, they shall all
have a single will.
If power, they shall have all power to fulfil their
will, as God to fulfil his. For, as God will have power
to do what he wills, through himself, so they will have
power, through him, to do what they will. For, as
they will not will aught else than he, he shall will
whatever they will ; and what he shall will cannot
fail to be. If honor and riches, God shall make his
good and faithful servants rulers over many things
(Luke xii. 42); nay, they shall be called sons of God,
and gods ; and where his Son shall be, there they shall
be also, heirs indeed of God, and joint-heirs with
Christ (Romans viii. 17).
If true security delights thee, undoubtedly they
shall be as sure that those goods, or rather that good,
will never and in no wise fail them ; as they shall be
sure that they will not lose it of their own accord ;
and that God, who loves them, will not take it away
from those who love him against their will ; and that
nothing more powerful than God will separate him
from them against his will and theirs.
But what, or how great, is the joy, where such and
32 ANSELM.
so great is the good ! Heart of man, needy heart,
heart acquainted with sorrows, nay, overwhelmed with
sorrows, how greatly wouldst thou rejoice, if thou
didst abound in all these things ! Ask thy inmost
mind whether it could contain its joy over so great a
blessedness of its own.
Yet assuredly, if any other whom thou didst love
altogether as thyself possessed the same blessedness,
thy joy would be doubled, because thou wouldst re
joice not less for him than for thyself. But, if two,
or three, or many more, had the same joy, thou wouldst
rejoice as much for each one as for thyself, if thou
didst love each as thyself. Hence, in that perfect
love of innumerable blessed angels and sainted men,
where none shall love another less than himself, every
one shall rejoice for each of the others as for himself.
If, then, the heart of man will scarce contain his
joy over his own so great good, how shall it contain
so many and so great joys? And doubtless, seeing
that every one loves another so far as he rejoices in
the other's good, and as, in that perfect felicity, each
one should love God beyond compare, more than him
self and all the others with him ; so he will rejoice
beyond reckoning in the felicity of God, more than in
his own and that of all the others with him.
But if they shall so love God with all their heart,
and all their mind, and all their soul, that still all the
heart, and all the mind, and all the soul shall not suf
fice for the worthiness of this love; doubtless they
will so rejoice with all their heart, and all their mind,
and all their soul, that all the heart, and all the mind,
and all the soul shall not suffice for the fulness of
their joy.
PROSLOGIUM. 33
CHAPTER XXVI.
Is this joy which the Lord promises made full ?— The blessed shall
rejoice according as they shall love ; and they shall love ac
cording as they shall know.
MY God and my Lord, my hope and the joy of my
heart, speak unto my soul and tell me whether this is
the joy of which thou tellest us through thy Sen : Ask
and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full (John
xvi. 24). For I have found a joy that is full, and
more than full. For when heart, and mind, and soul,
and all the man, are full of that joy, joy beyond meas
ure will still remain. Hence, not all of that joy shall
enter into those who rejoice ; but they who rejoice
shall wholly enter into that joy.
Show me, O Lord, show thy servant in his heart
whether this is the joy into which thy servants shall
enter, who shall enter into the joy of their Lord. But
that joy, surely, with which thy chosen ones shall re
joice, eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither has it
entered into the heart of man (Isaiah Ixiv. 4; i Cor
inthians ii. 9). Not yet, then, have I told or con
ceived, O Lord, how greatly those blessed ones of
thine shall rejoice. Doubtless they shall rejoice ac
cording as they shall love; and they shall love accord
ing as they shall know. How far they will know thee,
Lord, then! and how much they will love thee! Truly,
eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither has it en
tered into the heart of man in this life, how far they
shall know thee, and how much they shall love thee
in that life.
I pray, O God, to know thee, to love thee, that I
may rejoice in thee. And if I cannot attain to full joy
34 ANSELM.
in this life, may I at least advance from day to day,
until that joy shall come to the full. Let the knowl
edge of thee advance in me here, and there be made
full. Let the love of thee increase, and there let it
be full, that here my joy may be great in hope, and
there full in truth. Lord, through thy Son thou dost
command, nay, thou dost counsel us to ask ; and thou
dost promise that we shall receive, that our joy may
be full. I ask, O Lord, as thou dost counsel through
our wonderful Counsellor. I will receive what thou
dost promise by virtue of thy truth, that my joy may
be full. Faithful God, I ask. I will receive, that my
joy may be full. Meanwhile, let my mind meditate
upon it; let my tongue speak of it. Let my heart
love it; let my mouth talk of it. Let my soul hunger
for it; let my flesh thirst for it; let my whole being
desire it, until I enter into thy joy, O Lord, who art
the Three and the One God, blessed for ever and
ever. Amen.
ANSELM'S MONOLOGIUM
ON THE BEING OF GOD.
PREFACE.
In this book Anselm discusses, under the form of a meditation,
the Being of God, basing his argument not on the authority
of Scripture, but on the force of reason. It contains nothing
that is inconsistent with the writings of the Holy Fathers, and
especially nothing that is inconsistent with those of St.
Augustine. — The Greek terminology is employed in Chapter
LXXVIII., where it is stated that the Trinity may be said to
consist of three substances, that is, three persons.
CERTAIN brethren have often and earnestly en
treated me to put in writing some thoughts that I had
offered them in familiar conversation, regarding med
itation on the Being of God, and on some other topics
connected with this subject, under the form of a med
itation on these themes. It is in accordance with
their wish, rather than with my ability, that they have
prescribed such a form for the writing of this medita
tion ; in _ order Jha* nrt**]\l\g jp S«;TJp*urq ahoylfl be
urged on the authority of Scripture itself, but that
whatever the conclusion of independent investigation
should declare to be true, should, in an unadorned
style, with common proofs and with a simple argu
ment, be briefly enforced by the cogency of reason,
and plainly expounded in the light of truth. It was
36 ANSELM.
their wish also, that I should not disdain to meet such
simple and almost foolish objections as occur to me.
This task I have long refused to undertake. And,
reflecting on the matter, I have tried on many grounds
to excuse myself; for the more they wanted this work
to be adaptable to practical use, the more was what
they enjoined on me difficult of execution. Overcome
at last, however, both by the modest importunity of
their entreaties and by the not contemptible sincerity
of their zeal ; and reluctant as 1 was because of the
difficulty of my task and the weakness of my talent, I
entered upon the work they asked for. But it is with
pleasure inspired by their affection that, so far as I
was able, I have prosecuted this work within the limits
they set.
I was led to this undertaking in the hope that
whatever I might accomplish would soon be over
whelmed with contempt, as by men disgusted with
some worthless thing. For I know that in this book
I have not so much satisfied those who entreated me,
as put an end to the entreaties that followed me so
urgently. Yet, somehow it fell out, contrary to my
hope, that not only the brethren mentioned above,
but several others, by making copies for their own
use, condemned this writing to long remembrance.
And, after frequent consideration, I have not been
able to find that I have made in it any statement
which is inconsistent with the writings of the Catholic
Fathers, or especially with those of St. Augustine.
Wherefore, if it shall appear to any man that I have.,
offered in this work any thought that is either too
novel or discordant with the truth, I ask him not to
denounce me at once as one who boldly seizes upon,
new ideas, or as a maintaincr of falsehood ; but let ,
MONOLOGIUM. 37
him first read diligently Augustine's books on the
Trinity, and then judge my treatise in the light of
those.
In stating that the supreme Trinity may be said
to consist of three substances, I have followed the
Greeks, who acknowledge three substances in one
Essence, in the same faith wherein we acknowledge
three persons in one Substance. For they designate
by the word substance that attribute of God which we
designate by the word person.
Whatever I have said on that point, however, is
put in the mouth of one debating and investigating
in solitary reflection, questions to which he had given
no attention before. And this method I knew to be
in accordance with the wish of those whose request I
was striving to fulfil. But it is my prayer and earnest
entreaty, that if any shall wish to copy this work, he
shall be careful to place this preface at the beginning
of the book, before the body of the meditation itself.
For I believe that one will be much helped in under
standing the matter of this book, if he has taken note
of the intention, and the method according to which
it is discussed. It is my opinion, too, that one who
has first seen this preface will not pronounce a rash
judgment, if he shall find offered here any thought
that is contrary to his own belief.
CHAPTER I.
There is a being which is best, and greatest, and highest of all
existing beings.
IF any man, either from ignorance or unbelief, has
no knowledge of the existence of one Nature which is
the highest of all existing beings, which is also suffi-
38 ANSELM.
cient to itself in its eternal blessedness, and which
confers upon and effects in all other beings, through
its omnipotent goodness, the very fact of their exist
ence, and the fact that in any way their existence is
good; and if he has no knowledge of many other
things, which we necessarily believe regarding God
and his creatures, he still believes that he can at least
convince himself of these truths in great part, even if
his mental powers are very ordinary, by the force of
reason alone.
And, although he could do this in many ways, I
shall adopt one which I consider easiest for such a
man. For, since all desire to enjoy only those things
which they suppose to be good, it is natural that this
man should, at some time, turn his mind's eye to the
examination of that cause by which these things are
good, which he does not desire, except as he judges
them to be good. So that, as reason leads the way
and follows up these considerations, he advances ra
tionally to those truths of which, without reason, he
has no knowledge. And if, in this discussion, I use
any argument which no greater authority adduces, I
wish it to be received in this way : although, on the
grounds that I shall see fit to adopt, the conclusion is
reached as if necessarily, yet it is not, for this reason,
said to be absolutely necessary, but merely that it can
appear so for the time being.
It is easy, then, for one to say to himself: Since
there are goods so innumerable, whose great diversity
we experience by the bodily senses, and discern by
our mental faculties, must we not believe that there
is some one thing, through which all goods whatever
are good? Or are they good, one through one thing,
and another through anotherPm^To be sure, it is most
MONOLOGIUM. 39
certain and clear, for all who are willing to see, that
whatsoever things are said to possess any attribute
in such a way that in mutual comparison they may be
said to possess it in greater, or less, or equal degree,
are said to possess it by virtue of some fact, which is
not understood to be one thing in one case and an
other in another, but to be the same in different cases,
whether it is regarded as existing in these cases in
equal or unequal degree, Fjjr, whatsoever things are
saidto be ju**l Ty^n ^"ipnrm "nr Tn'tri i>nrttn?r,
wlifthei equally, or more, or less, cannot be under-
.gtood asTjust, except through^the qm^li|y of justness.
which is poj one thfog in one_Tn stance., and another
4o another.
Since it is certain, then, that all goods, if mutually
compared, would prove either equally or unequally
good, necessarily they are all good by virtue of some
thing which is conceived of as the same in different
goods, although sometimes they seem to be called
good, the one by virtue of one thing, the other by-
virtue of another. For, apparently it is by virtue of
one quality, that a horse is called good, because he is
strong, and by virtue of another, that he is called good,
because he is swift. For, though he seems to be
called good by virtue of his strength, and good by
virtue of his swiftness, yet swiftness and strength do
not appear to be the same thing.
But if a horse, because he is strong and swift, is
therefore good, how is it that a strong, swift robber is
bad? Rather, then, just as a strong, swift robber is
bad, because he is harmful, so a strong, swift horse
is good, because he is useful. And, indeed, nothing
^is ordinarily regarded as, flood, except either for sorne
utility— as, lor instance, safety is called good, and
40 ANSELM.
those things which promote safety — or for some honor
able character— as, for instance, beauty is reckoned
to be good, and what promotes beauty.
But, since the reasoning which we have observed
is in no wise refutable, necessarily, again, all things,
whether useful or honorable, if they are truly good,
;irc [_;<>o(l through tii.it same being through which all
goods exist, whatever that being is. But who can
(Imil)l this very being, Ihnui^li \vhir.h all ^oods exist,
to be a great good? This must be, then, a good
through itself, since every other good is through it.
It follows, therefore, th^t a^ "thpy poods are good _.
Jthrou^h anotner being than that which they them-
gelvesarer and this bemgL alone "s*go?T(tthrough itself!"
Hence, this alone is supremely gobd,~which~ is alone
good through itself. For it is supreme, in that it so
surpasses other beings, that it is neither equalled nor
excelled. But thatJvd3*ftbr4g'"5Li'UT^aielv_£ood is also
supremely great._ There is, therefore, some j>ne fce£.
ing which_is supremely good, and supremely^ great,
.that is, l1™ ^]>1->"°* ^f n|j F^ti'p
CHAPTER II.
The same subject continued.
BUT, just as it has been proved that there is a be
ing that is supremely good, since all goods are good
through a single being, which is good through itself;
so it is necessarily inferred that tV>prp i'g ^rnpt^jnii.
^supremely great, which is great^ through Jtself. But
I do not mean physically great, as a material object
is great, but that which, the greater it is, is the better
dr the more worthy, — wisdom, for instance. And
MONOLOGIUM. 4!
since there can be nothing supremely great except
what is supremely good, there must be a being that is
greatest and best, i. e., the highest of all existing be
ings.
CHAPTER III.
There is a certain Nature through which whatever is exists, and
which exists through itself, and is the highest of all existing
beings.
THEREFORE, not only are all good things such
through something that is one and the same, and all
great things such through something that is one and
the same ; but whatever is, apparently exists through
something that is one and the same. For, everything
that is, exists either through something, or through
nothing. But nothing exists through nothing. For
con c^vajjlhataji thin
jTOtexist by virtue of something.
vVHatever is, then7does not exist except through
something. Since this is true, either there is one be-
ing. or fhpfp >ff^"tir..ftTfrti,nv. onC) through which all
things that are exist. Hut if there are more than
one, either "These ate tKemselves to be referred to
some one being, through which they exist, or ^hey
exist separaiely, eacri tnrougn itself, or- .they' «»»i«t
mutually through
But, if these beings exist through one being, then
all things do not exist through more than one, but
rather through that one being through which these
exist.
If, however, these exist separately, each through
itself, there is, at any rate, some power or property
of existing through self {existcndi per .$•<?), by which
42 ANSELM.
they are able to exist each through itself. But, there
can be no doubt that, in that case, they exist through
this very power, which is one, and through which
they are able to exist, each through itself. More
truly, then, do all things exist through this very be
ing, which is one, than through these, which are more
than one, which, without this one, cannot exist.
But that these beings exist mutually through one
another, no reason can admit ; since it is an irrational
conception that anything should exist through a being
on which it confers existence. For not even beings
of a relative nature exist thus mutually, the one
through the other. For, though the terms master and
servant are used with mutual reference, and the men
thus designated are mentioned as having mutual re
lations, yet they do not at all exist mutually, the one
through the other, since these relations exist through
the subjects to which they are referred.
Therefore, since truth altogether excludes the sup- j
position that there are more beings than one, through,;
which all things exist, that being, through which alii
exist, must be one. Since, then, all things that are I
exist through this one being, doubtless this one being!
exists through itself. Whatever things there are else, j
then, exist through something other than themselves,
and this alone through itself. But whatever exists
through another is less than that, through which all
things are, and which alone exists through itself.
Thereforej that which exists through itself exists in
the greatest degree of all things.
There is, then, some one being which alone exists
in the greatest and the highest degree of all. But
that which is greatest of all, and through which exists
whatever is good or great, and, in short, whatever
MONOLOGIUM. 43
has any existence — that must be supremely good, and
supremely great, and the highest of all existing be
ings.
CHAPTER IV.
The same subject continued.
FURTHERMORE, if one observes the nature of things
he perceives, whether he will or no, that not all are
embraced in a single degree of dignity ; but that cer
tain among them are distinguished by inequality of
degree. For, he who doubts that the horse is supe
rior in its nature to wood, and man more excellent
than the horse, assuredly does not deserve the name
of man. Therefore, although it cannot be denied-
that some natures are superior to others, nevertheless
reason convinces us that some nature is so preeminent
among these, that it has no superior. For, if the dis- *
tinction of degrees is infinite, so that there is among
them no degree, than which no higher can be found,
our course of reasoning reaches this conclusion : that
the multitude of natures themselves is not limited by
any bounds. But only an absurdly foolish man can
fail to regard such a conclusion 'as absurdly foolish.
There is, then, necessarily some nature which is sol
superior to some nature or natures, that there is none j
in comparison with which it is ranked as inferior.
Now, this nature which is such, either is .single/I
or there are more natures than one of this sort, andf
they are of equal degree.
But, if they are more, than one and equal, since
they cannot be equal through any diverse causes, but
only through some cause which is one and the same,
that one cause, through which they are equally so |
44 ANSELM.
great, either is itself what they are, that is, the very
essence of these natures ; or else it is another than ;
what they are.
But if it is nothing else than their very essence it
self, just as they have not more than one essence, but!
a single essence, so they have not more than one na-|
ttire, but a single nature. For I here understand na-\
turc as identical with essence.
IT, nowever, that through which these natures are
so great is another than that which they are, then,
certainly, they are less than that through which they
are so great. For, whatever is great through some-'
thing else is less than that through which it is great.
Therefore, they are not so great that there is nothing
else greater than they.
But if, neither through what they are nor through
anything other than themselves, can there be more
such natures than one, than which nothing else shall
be more excellent, then in no wise can there be more
than one nature of this kind.. We conclude, then,
that there is some nature which is one and single,
and which is so superior to others that it is inferior
to none. But that which is such is the greatest and
best of all existing beings. Hence, there is a certain
nature which is the highest of all existing beings.
This, however, it cannot be, unless it is what it is
through itself, and all existing beings are what they
are through it.
For since, as our reasoning showed us not long
since, that which exists through itself, and through
which all other things exist, is the highest of all exist
ing beings ; either conversely, that which is the high*
est exists through itself, and all others through it; or,'
there will be more than one supreme being. But it
MONOLOGIUM. 45
is manifest that there cannot be more than one su
preme being. There is, therefore, a certain Nature,
or Substance, or Essence, which is through itself good
and great, and through itself is what it is ; and through
which exists whatever is truly good, or great, or has
any existence at all ; and which is the supreme good
being, the supreme great being, being or subsisting
as supreme, that is, the highest of all existing beings.
CHAPTER V.
Just as this Nature exists through itself, and other beings through
it, so it derives existence from itself, and other beings from it.
Seeing, then, that the truth already discovered has
been satisfactorily demonstrated, it is profitable to
examine whether this Nature, and all things that have
any existence, derive existence from no other source
than it, just as they do not exist except through it.
But it is clear that one may say, that what derives
existence from something exists through the same
thing ; and what exists through something also de
rives existence from it. For instance, what derives
existence from matter, and exists through the artificer,
may also be said to exist through matter, and to de
rive existence from the artificer, since it exists through
both, and derives existence from both. That is, it isi
endowed with existence by both, although it exists
through matter and from the artificer in another sense
than that in which it exists through, and from, the
artificer.
It follows, then, that just as all existing beings are
what they are, through the supreme Nature, and as
that Nature exists through itself, but other beings
through another than themselves, so all existing be-
46 ANSELM.
ings derive existence from this supreme Nature. And
therefore, this Nature derives existence from itself,
but other beings from it. 4
CHAPTER VI.
This Nature was not brought into existence with the help of any
external cause, yet it does not exist through nothing, or derive
existence from nothing. — How existence through self, and de
rived from self, is conceivable.
SINCE the same meaning is not always attached to
the phrase, "existence through" something, or, to
the phrase, "existence derived from " something, very
diligent inquiry must be made, in what way all exist
ing beings exist through the supreme Nature, or de
rive existence from it. For, what exists through it- }
self, and what exists through another, do not admit i
the same ground of existence. Let us first consider, -/
separately, this supreme Nature, which exists through
self; then these beings which exist through another.
Since it is evident, then, that this Nature is what
ever it is, through itself, and all other beings are what
they are, through it, how does it exist through itself?
For, what is said to exist through anything apparently
exists through an efficient agent, or through matter,
or through some other external aid, as through some
instrument. But, whatever exists in any of these
three ways exists through another than itself, and it
is of later existence, and, in some sort, less than that
through which it obtains existence.
But, in no wise does the supreme Nature exist
through another, nor is it later or less than itself or
anything else. Therefore, the supreme Nature could
be created neither by itself, nor by another ; nor could
MONOLOGIUM. 47
itself or any other be the matter whence it should be
created; nor did it assist itself in any way; nor did
anything assist it to be what it was not before.
What is to be inferred? For that which cannot
have come into existence by any creative agent, or
from any matter, or with any external aids, seems
either to be nothing, or, if it has any existence, to j
exist through nothing, and derive existence from noth- *
ing. And although, in accordance with the observa- *
tions I have already made, in the light of reason, re
garding the supreme Substance, I should think such
propositions could in no wise be true in the case of
the supreme Substance ; yet, I would not neglect to
give a connected demonstration of this matter.
For, seeing that this my meditation has suddenly
brought me to an important and interesting point, I
am unwilling to pass over carelessly even any simple
or almost foolish objection that occurs to me, in my
argument; in order that by leaving no ambiguity in
my discussion up to this point, I may have the better
assured strength to advance toward what follows ;
and in order that if, perchance, I shall wish to con
vince any one of the truth of my speculations, even
one of the slower minds, through the removal of every
obstacle, however slight, may acquiesce in what it
finds here.
That this Nature, then, without which no nature
exists, is nothing, is as false as it would be absurd to
say that whatever is is nothing. And, moreover, it
does not exist through nothing, because it is utterly
inconceivable that what is something should exist
through nothing. But, if in any way it derives exist
ence from nothing, it does so through itself, or through
another, or through nothing. But it is evident that
48 ANSELM.
in no wise does anything exist through nothing. If,
then, in any way it derives existence from nothing, it
does so either through itself or through another.
But nothing can, through itself, derive existence '
from nothing, because if anything derives existence \,
from nothing, through something, then that through
which it exists must exist before it. Seeing that this *
Being, then, does not exist before itself, by no means i
does it derive existence from itself.
But if it is supposed to have derived existence
from some other nature, then it is not the supreme
Nature, but some inferior one, nor is it what it is
through itself, but through another.
Again : if this Nature derives existence from noth
ing, through something, that through which it exists
was a great good, since it was the cause of good. But *
no good can be understood as existing before that '~
good, without which nothing is good ; and it is suffi
ciently clear that this good, without which there is no
good, is the supreme Nature which is under discus
sion. Therefore, it is not even conceivable that this
Nature was preceded by any being, through which it
derived existence from nothing.
' Hence, if it has any existence through nothing, or i
derives existence from nothing, there is no doubt that
either, whatever it is, it does not exist through itself,
or derive existence from itself, or else it is itself noth
ing. It is unnecessary to show that both these sup
positions are false. The supreme Substance, then,
^oesjnotjexist through^any efficient agent, and does '
vnotderive ^xistence from any matter, and was not
aided in being brought into exist£nceby__any external
causes. Nevertheless, it by no means exists~through
MONOLOGIUM. 49
nothing, or derives existence from nothing; since,
through itself and from itself, it is whatever it is.
Finally, as to how it should be understood to exist
through itself, and to derive existence from itself: it
did not create itself, nor did it spring up as its own
matter, nor did it in any way assist itself to become
what it was not before, unless, haply, it seems best to
conceive of this subject in the way in which one says
that the light lights or is lucent, through and from it
self. For, as are the mutual relations of the light and
to light and lucent (lux, lucere, lucens}, such are the
relations of essence, and to be and being, that is, exist
ing or subsisting. So the supreme Being, and to be in
the highest degree, and being in the highest degree,
bear much the same relations, one to another, as the
light and to light and lucent.
CHAPTER VII.
In what way all other beings exist through this Nature and derive
existence from it.
THERE now remains the discussion of that whole
class of beings that exist through another, as to how
they exist through the supreme Substance, whether
because this Substance created them all, or because
it was the material of all. For, there is no need to
inquire whether all exist through it, for this reason,
namely, that there being another creative agent, or
another existing material, this supreme Substance
has merely aided in bringing about the existence of
all things : since it is inconsistent with what has al
ready been shown, that whatever things are should
exist secondarily, and not primarily, through it.
First, then, it seems to me, we ought to inquire
5O ANSELM.
whether that whole class of beings which exist through
another derive existence from any material. But I i
do not doubt that all this solid world, with its parts, I
just as we see, consists of earth, water, fire, and air. '
These four elements, of course, can be conceived of ,
without these forms which we see in actual objects,
so that their formless, or even confused, nature ap
pears to be the material of all bodies, distinguished
'by their own forms. — I say that I do not doubt this.
'But I ask, whence this very material that I have men-
'tioned, the material of the mundane mass, derives its
existence. For, if there is some material of this ma-,
terial, then that is more truly the material of the phys-j
ical universe.
If, then, the universe of things, whether visible or
invisible, derives existence from any material, cer- i
tainly it not only cannot be, but it cannot even be
supposed to be, from any other material than from ;
the supreme Nature or from itself, or from some third
being — but this last, at any rate, does not exist. For,
indeed, nothing is even conceivable except that high
est of all beings, which exists through itself, and the
universe of beings which exist, not through them
selves, but through this supreme Being. Hence, that
which has no existence at all is not the material of
anything.
From its own nature the universe cannot derive
existence, since, if this were the case, it would in
some sort exist through itself and so through another
than that through which all things exist. But all
these suppositions are false.
Again, everything that derives existence from ma- (
terial derives existence from another, and exists later
than that other. Therefore, since nothing is other
MONOLOG1UM. 5 1
than itself, or later than itself, it follows that nothing
derives material existence from itself.
But if, from the material of the supreme Nature
itself, any lesser being can derive existence, the su
preme good is subject to change and corruption. But
this it is impious to suppose. Hence, since every
thing that is other than this supreme Nature is less
than it, it isTmpossfble that anything other than it in .
this way derives existence from it.
Furthermore : doubtless that is in no wise good,
through which the supreme good is subjected to
change or corruption. But, if any lesser nature de- i
rives existence from the material of the supreme good, »
inasmuch as nothing exists whencesoever, except \
through the supreme Being, the supreme good is sub
jected to change and corruption through the supreme
Being itself. Hence, the supreme Being, which is
itself the supreme good, is by no means good ; which
is a contradiction. There is, therefore, no lesser na
ture which derives existence in a material way from
the supreme Nature.
Since, then, it is evident that the essence of those
things which exist through another does not derive
existence as if materially, from the supreme Essence,
nor from itself, nor from another, it is manifest that!
it derives existence from no material. Hence, seeing
that whatever is exists through the supreme Being,
nor can aught else exist through this Being, except
by its creation, or by its existence as material, it iol-\
lows, necessarily, that nothing besides it exists, ex
cept by its creation. And, since nothing else is or
has been, except that supreme Being and the beings
created by it, it could create nothing at all through
any other instrument or aid than itself. But all that
52 ANSELM.
it has created, it has doubtless created either from
something, as from material, or from nothing.
Since, then, it is most patent that the essence of
all beings, except the supreme Essence, was created
by that supreme Essence, and derives existence from
no material, doubtless nothing can be more clear than
that this supreme Essence nevertheless produced
from nothing, alone and through itself, the world of
material things, so numerous a multitude, formed in
such beauty, varied in such order, so fitly diversified.
CHAPTER VIII.
How it is to be understood that this Nature created all things from
nothing.
BUT we are confronted with a doubt regarding this
term nothing. For, from whatever source anything is
created, that source is the cause of what is created
from it, and, necessarily, every cause affords some
assistance to the being of what it effects. This is so
firmly believed, as a result of experience, by every
one, that the belief can be wrested from no one by
argument, and can scarcely be purloined by sophistry.
Accordingly, if anything was created from nothing,
this very nothing was the cause of what was created
from it. But how could that which had no existence
assist anything in coming into existence? If, how
ever, no aid to the existence of anything ever had its
source in nothing, who can be convinced, and how,
that anything is created out of nothing?
Moreover, nothing either means something, or does
not mean something. But if nothing is something,
whatever has been created from nothing has been
created from something. If, however, nothing is not
MONOLOGIUM. 53
something; since it is inconceivable that anything
should be created from what does not exist, nothing
is created from nothing ; just as all agree that noth
ing comes from nothing. Whence, it evidently fol-/
lows, that whatever is created is created from some
thing ; for it is created either from something or from
nothing. Whether, then, nothing is something, or
nothing is not something, it apparently follows, that
whatever has been created was created from some
thing.
But, if this is posited as a truth, then it is so pos
ited in opposition to the whole argument propounded
in the preceding chapter. Hence, since what was f
nothing will thus be something, that which was some- '
thing in the highest degree will be nothing. For, '
from the discovery of a certain Substance existing in
the greatest degree of all existing beings, my reason
ing had brought me to this conclusion, that all other/
beings were so created by this Substance, that that)
from which they were created was nothing. Hence,'
if that from which they were created, which I sup
posed to be nothing, is something, whatever I sup
posed to have been ascertained regarding the supreme
Being, is nothing.
What, then, is to be our understanding of the term
nothing? — For I have already determined not to neg
lect in this meditation any possible objection, even if
it be almost foolish. — In three ways, then — and this
suffices for the removal of the present obstacle — can
the statement that any substance was created from
nothing be explained.
There is one way, according to which we wish it
to be understood, that what is said to have been cre
ated from nothing has not been created at all ; just
54 ANSELM.
as, to one who asks regarding a dumb man, of what
he speaks, the answer is given, "of nothing," that is,
he does not speak at all. According to this interpre
tation, to one who enquires regarding the supreme
Being, or regarding what never has existed and does
not exist at all, as to whence it was created, the an
swer, "from nothing" may properly be given; that
is, it never was created. But fhis answer is unin
telligible in the case of any of those things that actu
ally were created.
There is another interpretation which is, indeed,
capable of supposition, but cannot be true; namely,
that if anything is said to have been created from
nothing, it was created from nothing itself (de nihilo
tpsd), that is, from what does not exist at all, as if this
very nothing were some existent being, from which
something could be created. But, since this is always
false, as often as it is assumed an irreconcilable con
tradiction follows.
There is a third interpretation, according to which
a thing is said to have been created from nothing,
when we understand that it was indeed created, but
that there is not anything whence it was created. Ap
parently it is said with a like meaning, when a man
is afflicted without cause, that he is afflicted "over
nothing."
If, then, the conclusion reached in the preceding
chapter is understood in this sense, that with the ex
ception of the supreme Being all things have been
created by that Being from nothing, that is, not from
anything; just as this conclusion consistently follows
the preceding arguments, so, from it, nothing incon
sistent is inferred ; although it may be said, without
inconsistency or any contradiction, that what has been
MONOLOGIUM. 55
created by the creative Substance was created from
nothing, in the way that one frequently says a rich
man has been made from a poor man, or that one has
recovered health from sickness ; that is, he who was
poor before, is rich now, as he was not before ; and
he who was ill before, is well now, as he was not be
fore.
In this way, then, we can understand, without in
consistency, the statement that the creative Being
created all things from nothing, or that all were cre
ated through it from nothing; that is, those things
which before were nothing, are now something. For,
indeed, from the very word that we use, saying that
it created them or that they were created, we under
stand that when this Being created them, it created
something, and that when they were created, they
were created only as something. For so, beholding
a man of very lowly fortunes exalted with many riches
and honors by some one, we say, "Lo, he has made
that man out of nothing " ; that is, the man who was
before reputed as nothing is now, by virtue of that
other's making, truly reckoned as something.
CHAPTER IX.
Those things which were created from nothing had an existence
before their creation in the thought of the Creator.
BUT I seem to see a truth that compels me to dis
tinguish carefully in what sense those things which
were created may be said to have been nothing be
fore their creation. For, in no wise can anything
conceivably be created by any, unless there is, in thej
mind of the creative agent, some example, as it were,
or (as is more fittingly supposed) some model, or like-
56 ANSELM.
ness, or rule. It is evident, then, that before the
world was created, it was in the thought of the su
preme Nature, what, and of what sort, and how, it
should be. Hence, although it is clear that the beings
that were created were nothing before their creation,
to this extent, that they were not what they now are,
nor was there anything whence they should be cre
ated, yet they were not nothing, so far as the creator's
thought is concerned, through which, and according
to which, they were created.
CHAPTER X.
This thought is a kind of expression of the objects created (locutio
rerum), like the expression which an artisan forms in his
mind for what he intends to make.
BUT this model of things, which preceded their
creation in the thought of the creator, what else is it
than a kind of expression of these things in his thought
itself; just as when an artisan is about to make some
thing after the manner of his craft, he first expresses
it to himself through a concept? But by the expres--
sion of the mind or reason I mean, here, not the con-j
ception of words signifying the objects, but the gene- \
ral view in the mind, by the vision of conception, of
the objects themselves, whether destined to be, or
already existing. j\
For, from frequent usage, it is recognised that we
can express the same object in three ways. For we .
express objects either by the sensible use of sensible
signs, that is, signs which are perceptible to the bodily j
senses ; or by thinking within ourselves insensibly of
these signs which, when outwardly used, are sensible; ,
or not by employing these signs, either sensibly or '
MONOLOGIUM. 57
insensibly, but by expressing the things themselves -
inwardly in our mind, whether by the power of im
agining material bodies or of understanding thought,
according to the diversity of these objects themselves. ,
For I express a man in one way, when I signify
him by pronouncing these words, a man ; in another,
when I think of the same words in silence ; and in
another, when the mind regards the man himself,
either through the image of his body, or through the
reason ; through the image of his body, when the
mind imagines his visible form ; through the reason,
however, when it thinks of his universal essence,
which is a rational, mortal animal.
Now, the first two kinds of expression are in the
language of one's race. But the words of that kind
of expression, which I have put third and last, when
they concern objects well known, are natural, and are
the same among all nations. And, since all other
words owe their invention to these, where these are,
no other word is necessary for the recognition of an
object, and where they cannot be, no other word is of
any use for the description of an object.
For, without absurdity, they may also be said to
be the truer, the more like they are to the objects to
which they correspond, and the more expressively
they signify these objects. For, with the exception
of those objects, which we employ as their own names,
in order to signify them, like certain sounds, the vowel
a for instance — with the exception of these, I say, no
other word appears so similar to the object to which \
it is applied, or expresses it as does that likeness
which is expressed by the vision of the mind thinking|
of the object itself.
This last, then, should be called the especially
58 ANSELM.
proper and primary -word, corresponding to the thing.
Hence, if no expression of any object whatever so
nearly approaches the object as that expression which
consists of this sort of words, nor can there be in the
thought of any another word so like the object,
whether destined to be, or already existing, not with
out reason it may be thought that such an expression
of objects existed with (apiul~} the supreme Substance
before their creation, that they might be created ; and
exists, now that they have been created, that they
may be known through it.
CHAPTER XI.
The analogy, however, between the expression of the Creator and
the expression of the artisan is very incomplete.
BUT, though it is most certain that the supreme
Substance expressed, as it were, within itself the
whole created world, which it established according
to, and through, this same most profound expression,
just as an artisan first conceives in his mind what he
afterwards actually executes in accordance with his
mental concept, yet I see that this analogy is very in
complete.
For the supreme Substance took absolutely noth
ing from any other source, whence it might either
frame a model in itself, or make its creatures what
they are ; while the artisan is wholly unable to con
ceive in his imagination any bodily thing, except what
he has in some way learned from external objects,
whether all at once, or part by part; nor can he per
form the work mentally conceived, if there is a lack
of material, or of anything without which a work pre
meditated cannot be performed. For, though a man
MONOLOGIUM. 59
qaiij by meditation or representation, frame the idea
M STJgf?y °^ anima^ such as has no existence ; yet,
by no means has he the power to do this, except by
uniting in this idea the parts that he has gathered in
his memory from objects known externally. .fy^. — -"
Hence, in this respect, these inner expressions of
the works they are to create differ in the creative sub
stance and in the artisan : that the former expression,
without being taken or aided from any external source,
but as first and sole cause, could suffice the Artificer
for the performance of his work, while the latter is
neither first, nor sole, nor sufficient, cause for the in
ception of the artisan's work. Therefore, whatever
has been created through the former expression is
only what it is through that expression, while what
ever has been created through the latter would not
exist at all, unless it were something that it is not
through this expression itself.
CHAPTER XII.
This expression of the supreme Being is the supreme Being.
BUT since, as our reasoning shows, it is equally
certain that whatever the supreme Substance created,
it created through nothing other than itself ; and what
ever it created, it created through its own most inti
mate expression, whether separately, by the utterance
of separate words, or all at once, by the utterance of
one word; what conclusion can be more evidently
necessary, than that this expression of the supreme
Being is no other than the supreme Being? There
fore, the consideration of this expression should not,
in my opinion, be carelessly passed over. But before
it can be discussed, I think some of the properties
60 ANSELM.
of this supreme Substance should be diligently and
earnestly investigated.
CHAPTER XIII.
As all things were created through the supreme Being, so all live
through it.
IT is certain, then, that through the supreme Na
ture whatever is not identical with it has been created. ,
But no rational mind can doubt that all creatures live
and continue to exist, so long as they do exist, by the
sustenance afforded by that very Being through whose
creative act they are endowed with the existence that
they have. For, by a like course of reasoning to that
by which it has been gathered that all existing beings
exist through some one being, hence that being alone
exists through itself, and others through another than
themselves — by a like course of reasoning, I say, it
can be proved that whatever things live, live through
some one being ; hence that being alone lives through
itself, and others through another than themselves.
But, since it cannot but be that those things which
have been created live through another, and that by
which they have been created lives through itself,
necessarily, just as nothing has been created except
through the creative, present Being, so nothing lives
except through its preserving presence.
CHAPTER XIV.
This Being is in all things, and throughout all ; and all derive ex
istence from it and exist through and in it.
BUT if this is true — rather, since this must be true,
it follows that, where this Being is not, nothing is. It i
is, then, everywhere, and throughout all things, and
MONOLOGIUM. 6 1
in all. But seeing that it is manifestly absurd that as
any created being can in no wise exceed the immeasur-
ableness of what creates and cherishes it, so the crea
tive and cherishing Being cannot, in any way, exceed
the sum of the things it has created; it is clear that
this Being itself, is what supports and surpasses, in
cludes and permeates all other things. If we unite
this truth with the truths already discovered, we find
it is this same Being which is in all and through all,
and from which, and through which, and in which,
all exist.
CHAPTER XV.
What can or cannot be stated concerning the substance of this
Being.
NOT without reason I am now strongly impelled to
inquire as earnestly as I am able, which of all the
statements that may be made regarding anything is
substantially applicable to this so wonderful Nature.
For, though I should be surprised if, among the names
or words by which we designate things created from
nothing, any should be found that could worthily be
applied to the Substance which is the creator of all ;
yet, we must try and see to what end reason will lead
this investigation.
As to relative expressions, at any rate, no one can
doubt that no such expression describes what is essen
tial to that in regard to which it is relatively em
ployed. Hence, if any relative predication is made
regarding the supreme Nature, it is not significant of
its substance.
Therefore, it is manifest that this very expression,
that this Nature, is the highest of all beings, or greater
than those which have been created by it ; or any
62 ANSELM.
other relative term that can, in like manner, be ap
plied to it, does not describe its natural essence.
For, if none of those things ever existed, in rela
tion to which it is called supreme or greater, it would
not be conceived as either supreme or greater, yet it
would not, therefore, be less good, or suffer detriment
to its essential greatness in any degree. And this
truth is clearly seen from the fact that this Nature ex
ists through no other than itself, whatever there be
that is good or great. If, then, the supreme Nature
can be so conceived of as not supreme, that still it
shall be in no wise greater or less than when it is con
ceived of as the highest of all beings, it is manifest
that the term supreme, taken by itself, does not de
scribe that Being which is altogether greater and
better than whatever is not what it is. But, what
these considerations show regarding the term supreme
or highest is found to be true, in like manner, of other
similar, relative expressions.
Passing over these relative predications, then, I
since none of them taken by itself represents the \
essence of anything, let our attention be turned to the
discussion of other kinds of predication.
Now, certainly if one diligently considers sepa
rately whatever there is that is not of a relative na
ture, either it is such that, to be it is in general better
than not to be it, or such that, in some cases, not to be
it is better than to be it. But I here understand the
phrases, to be it and not to be it, in the same way in
which I understand to be true and not to be true, to be
bodily and not to be bodily, and the like. Indeed, to be
anything is, in general, better than not to be it ; as to
be -wise is better than not to be so ; that is, it is better
to be wise than not to be wise. For, though one who
MONOLOGIUM. 63
is just, but not wise, is apparently a better man than
one who is wise, but not just, yet, taken by itself, it
is not better not to be wise than to be wise. For, every
thing that is not wise, simply in so far as it is not
wise, is less than what is wise, since everything that
is not wise would be better if it were wise. In the
same way, to be true is altogether better than not to be
so, that is, better than not to be true ; and just is better
than not just ; and to live than not to live.
But, in some cases, not to be a certain thing is bet
ter than to be it, as not to be gold may be better than
to be gold. For it is better for man not to be gold,
than to be gold ; although it might be better for some
thing to be gold, than not to be gold — lead, for in
stance. For though both, namely, man and lead are
not gold, man is something as much better than gold,
as he would be of inferior nature, were he gold ; while
lead is something as much more base than gold, as it
would be more precious, were it gold.
But, from the fact that the supreme Nature may
be so conceived of as not supreme, that supreme is
neither in general better than not supreme, nor not su
preme better, in any case, than supreme — from this fact
it is evident that there are many relative expressions'!
which are by no means included in this classification. )
Whether, however, any are so included, I refrain from
inquiring ; since it is sufficient, for my purpose, that
undoubtedly none of these, taken by itself, describes
the substance of the supreme Nature.
Since, then, it is true of whatever else there is,
that, if it is taken independently, to be it is better than
not to be it ; as it is impious to suppose that the sub
stance of the supreme Nature is anything, than which
what is not it is in any way better, it must be true that
64 ANSELM.
this substance is whatever is, in general, better than
what is not it._ For, it alone is that, than which there
is nothing better at all, and which is better than all
things, which are not what it is.
It is not a material body, then, or any of those
things which the bodily senses discern. For, than
all these there is something better, which is not what
they themselves are. For, the rational mind, as to
which no bodily sense can perceive what, or of what
character, or how great, it is — the less this rational
mind would be if it were any of those things that are
in the scope of the bodily senses, the greater it is
than any of these. For by no means should this
supreme Being be said to be any of those things to
which something, which they themselves are not, is
superior; and it should by all means, as our reasoning
shows, be said to be any of those things to which
\J everything, which is not what they themselves are, is
inferior.
Hence, this Being must be living, wise, powerfulA
and all-powerful, true, just, blessed, eternal, and what-!
ever, in like manner, is absolutely better than what isj
not it. Why, then, should we make any further in-1
quiry as to what that supreme Nature is, if it is mani-J
fest which of all things it is, and which it is not?
CHAPTER XVI.
For this Being it is the same to be just that it is to be justice ; and
so with regard to attributes that can be expressed in the same
way : and none of these shows of what character, or how
great, but what this Being is.
BUT perhaps, when this Being is called just, or j
great, or anything like these, it is not shown what it j
is, but of what character, or how great it is. For \
MONOLOGIUM. 65
every such term seems to be used with reference to
quantity or magnitude ; because everything that is
just is so through justness, and so with other like
cases, in the same way. Hence, the supreme Nature
itself is not just, except through justness.
It seems, then, that by participation in this quality,
that is, justness, the supremely good Substance is
called just. But, if this is so, it is just through an
other, and not through itself. But this is contrary to
the truth already established, that it is good, or great,
or whatever it is at all, through itself and not through
another. So, if it is not just, except through just
ness, and cannot be just, except through itself, what
can be more clear than that this Nature is_itself just
ness^ And, when it is said to be just through just
ness, it is the same as saying that it is just through
itself. And, when it is said to be just through itself,
nothing else is understood than that it is just through
justness. Hence, if it is inquired what the supreme
Nature^jwhich is in question, is in. itself, what truer
answer can be given, than Justness!
We must observe, then, how we are to understand
the statement, that the Nature which is itself justness
is just. For, since a man cannot be justness, but can
possess justness, we do not conceive of a just man as
being justness, but as possessing justness. Since, on
the other hand, it cannot properly be said of the su
preme Nature that it possesses justness, but that it is
justness, when it is called just it is properly conceived
of as being justness, but not as possessing justness.
Hence, if, when it is said to be justness, it is not said
of what character it is, but what it is, it follows that,
when it is called just, it is not said of what character
it is, but what it is.
66 ANSELM.
Therefore, seeing that it is the same to say of the
supreme Being, that it is just and that it is justness;
and, when it is said that it is justness, it is nothing
else than saying that it is just; it makes no difference
whether it is said to be justness or to be just. Hence,
when one is asked regarding the supreme Nature,
what it is, the answer, Just, is not less fitting than the
answer, Justness. Moreover, what we see to have
been proved in the case of justness, the intellect is
compelled to acknowledge as true of all attributes
which are similarly predicated of this supreme Na
ture. Whatever such attribute is predicated of it,
then, it is shown, not of what character, or how great,
but what it is.
But it is obvious that whatever good thing the \
supreme Nature is, it is in the highest degree. It is,
therefore, supreme Being, supreme Justness, supreme
Wisdom, supreme Truth, supreme Goodness, supreme
Greatness, supreme Beauty, supreme Immortality, /'v,v*
supreme Incorruptibility, supreme Immutability, su-V
preme Blessedness, supreme Eternity, supreme Power, j
supreme Unity; which is nothing else than supremely]*,
being, supremely living, etc.
CHAPTER XVII.
It is simple in such a way that all things that can be said of its
essence are one and the same in it : and nothing can be said
of its substance except in terms of what it is.
Is it to be inferred, then, that if the supreme Na
ture is so many goods, it will therefore be compounded
of more goods than one? Or is it true, rather, that
there are not more goods than one,
MONOLOGIUM. 67
described by many names? For, everything which is
composite requires for its subsistence the things of
which it is compounded, and, indeed, owes to them
the fact of its existence, because, whatever it is, it is
through these things ; and they are not what they are
through it, and therefore it is not at all supreme. If, •
then, that Nature is compounded of more goods than j
one, all these facts that are true of every composite
must be applicable to it. But this impious falsehood t
the whole cogency of the truth that was shown above ^
refutes and overthrows, through a clear argument.
Since, then, that jjature is by no means composite,
and yet is by all means those~~so many goods, neces
sarily all these are not more than one, but are one.
Any one of them is, therefore, the same as all, whether
taken all at once or separately. Therefore, just as
whatever is attributed to the essence of the supreme
Substance is one; so this substance is whatever it is
essentially in one way, and by virtue of one consider
ation. For, when a man is said to be a material body,
and rational, and human, these three things are not
said in one way, or in virtue of one consideration.
For, in accordance with one fact, he is a material
body ; and in accordance with another, rational ; and
no one of these, taken by itself, is the whole of what
man is.
That supreme Being, however, is by no means
anything in such a way that it is not this same thing,
according to another way, or another consideration ;
because, whatever it is essentially in any way, this is
all of what it is. Therefore, nothing that is truly said
of the supreme Being is accepted in terms of quality
or quantity, but only in terms of what it is. For,
whatever it is in terms of either quality or quantity
68
would constitute still another element, in terms of
what it is ; hence, it would not be simple, but com
posite.
CHAPTER XVIII.
It is without beginning and without end.
FROM what time, then, has this so simple Nature
which creates and animates all things existed, or until
what time is it to exist? Or rather, let us ask neither
from what time, nor to what time, it exists ; but is it
without beginning and without end? For, if it has a
beginning, it has this either from or through itself, or'
from or through another, or from or through nothing./
But it is certain, according to truths already made
plain, that jn nowise does it derive existence from
another, or from nothing; or exist through another,
or through nothing. In no wise, therefore, has it had
inception through or from another, or through or from
nothing.
Moreover, it cannot have inception from or through
itself, although it exists from and through itself. For
it so exists from and through itself, that by no means
is there one essence which exists from and through
itself, and another through which, and from which, it
exists. But, whatever begins to exist from or through I
something, is by no means identical with that from or/
through which it begins to exist. Therefore, the su-l
preme Nature does not begin through or from, itself.
Seeing, then, that it has a beginning neither
through nor from itself, and neither through nor from
nothing, it assuredly has no beginning at all. But
neither will it have an end. For, if it is to have end,
it is not supremely immortal and supremely incorrupt-
MONOLOGIUM. 69
ible. But we have proved that it is supremely immor
tal and supremely incorruptible. Therefore, it will
not have an end.
Furthermore, if it is to have an end, it will perish
either willingly or against its will. But certainly that}
is not a simple, unmixed good, at whose will the su- J
preme good perishes. But this Being is itself the
true and simple, unmixed good. Therefore, that very
Being, which is certainly the supreme good, will not
die of its own will. If, however, it is to perish against,
its will, it is not supremely powerful, or all-powerful. {
But cogent reasoning has asserted it to be powerful
and all-powerful. Therefore, it will not die against
its will. Hence, if neither with nor against its will
the supreme Nature is to have an end, in no way will
it have an end.
Again, if the supreme nature has an end or a be
ginning, it is not true eternity, which it has been
irrefutably proved to be above.
Then, let him who can conceive of a time when,
this began to be true, or when it was not true, namely,!
that something was destined to be ; or when this shall 1
cease to be true, and shall not be true, namely, that J
something has existed. But, if neither of these sup
positions is conceivable, and both these facts cannot
exist without truth, it is impost10 ""fiULf? -conceive
that truth .has either IjeginningL or end. And then, if
truth had a beginning, or shall have an end; before I
it began it was true that truth did not exist, and after!
it shall be ended it will be true that truth will not L
exist. Yet, anything that is true cannot exist without
truth. Therefore, truth existed before truth existed,
and truth will exist after truth shall be ended, which
is a most contradictory conclusion. Whether, then,
7O ANSELM.
truth is said to have, or understood not to have, be
ginning or end, it cannot be limited by any beginning
or end. Hence, the same follows as regards the su
preme Nature, since it is itself the supreme Truth.
CHAPTER XIX.
In what sense nothing existed before or will exist after this Being.
BUT here we are again confronted by the term
nothing, and whatever our reasoning thus far, with
the concordant attestation of truth and necessity, has
concluded nothing to be. For, if the propositions
duly set forth above have been confirmed by the for
tification of logically necessary truth, not anything
existed before the supreme Being, nor will anything
exist after it. Hence, nothing existed before, and
nothing will exist after, it. For, either something or
nothing must have preceded it ; and either something
or nothing must be destined to follow it.
But, he who says that nothing existed before it
appears to make this statement, "that there was be
fore it a time when nothing existed, and that there
will be after it a time when nothing will exist. " There-,
fore, when nothing existed, that Being did not exist,/
and when nothing shall exist, that Being will not ex
ist. How is it, then, that it does not take inception*
from nothing or how is it that it will not come to noth
ing? — if that Being did not yet exist, when nothing
already existed; and the same Being shall no longer
exist, when nothing shall still exist. Of what avail is
so weighty a mass of arguments, if this nothing so
easily demolishes their structure? For, if it is estab
lished that the supreme Being succeeds nothing? which
\Nothing is here treated as an entity, supposed actually to precede the
supreme Being in existence. The fallacy involved is shown below. — Tr,
MONOLOGIUM. 71
precedes it, and yields its place to nothing, which fol
lows it, whatever has been posited as true above is
necessarily unsettled by empty nothing.
But, rather ought this nothing to be resisted, lest
so many structures of cogent reasoning be stormed by
nothing ; and the supreme good, which has been sought
and found by the light of truth, be lost for nothing.^
Let it rather be declared, then, that nothing did notl
exist before the supreme Being, and that nothing will !
not exist after it, rather than that, when a place is '
given before or after it to nothing, that Being which
through itself brought into existence what was noth
ing, should be reduced through nothing to nothing.
For this one assertion, namely, that nothing ex
isted before the supreme Being, carries two meanings.
For, one sense of this statement is that, before the
supreme Being, there was a time when nothing was.
But another understanding of the same statement is
that, before the supreme Being, not anything existed.
Just as, supposing I should say, "Nothing has taught
me to fly," I could explain this assertion either in
this way, that nothing, as an entity in itself, which
signifies not anything, has taught me actually to fly —
which would be false ; or in this way, that not any
thing has taught me to fly, which would be true.
The former interpretation, therefore, which is fol
lowed by the inconsistency discussed above, is re
jected by all reasoning as false. But there remains
the other interpretation, which unites in perfect con
sistency with the foregoing arguments, and which,
from the force of their whole correlation, must be
true.
Hence, the statement that nothing existed before
that Being must be received in the latter sense. Nor
72 ANSELM.
should it be so explained, that it shall be understood
that there was any time when that Being did not ex
ist, and nothing did exist; but, so that it shall be
understood that, before that Being, there was not
anything. The same sort of double signification is
found in the statement that nothing will exist after
that Being.
If, then, this interpretation of the term nothing,
that has been given, is carefully analysed, most truly ~
neither something nor nothing preceded or will follow
the supreme Being, and the conclusion is reached,
that nothing existed before or will exist after it. Yet,
the solidity of the truths already established is in no
wise impaired by the emptiness of nothing.
CHAPTER XX.
i/vf • it exists in every place and at every time.
BUT, although it has been concluded above that
this creative Nature exists everywhere, and in all
things, and through all; and from the fact that it
neither began, nor will cease to be, it follows that it
always has been, and is, and will be ; yet, I perceive
a certain secret murmur of contradiction which com
pels me to inquire more carefully where and when
that Nature exists.
The supreme Being, then, exists either every where /
and always, or merely at some place and time, or no- 1
where and never : or, as I express it, either in every
place and at every time, or finitely, in some place and
at some time, or in no place and at no time.
But what can be more obviously contradictory,
than that what exists most really and supremely exists
nowhere and never? It is, therefore, false that it ex-
MONOLOGIUM. 73
ists nowhere and never. Again, since there is no
good, nor anything at all without it ; if this Being it
self exists nowhere or never, then nowhere or never
is there any good, and nowhere and never is there
anything at all. But there is no need to state that
this is false. Hence, the former proposition is also
false, that that Being exists nowhere and never.
^_jt therefore exists finitely, at some time and place.
or everywhere and always. But, if it exists finitely,
at some place or time, there and then only, where and
when it exists, can anything exist. Where and when
it does not exist, moreover, there is no existence an
all, because, without it, nothing exists. Whence it!
will follow, that there is some place and time where!
and when nothing at all exists. But seeing that this\
is false — for place and time themselves are existing
things — the supreme Nature cannot exist finitely, at
some place or time. But, if it is said that it of itself
exists finitely, at some place and time, but that,
through its power, it is wherever and whenever any
thing is, this is not true. For, since it is manifest
that its power is nothing else than itself, by no means
does its power exist without it.
Since, then, it does not exist finitely, at some
place or time, it must exist everywhere and always,
that is, in every place and at every time.
f fi'til*) CHAPTER XXI.
/ /X/
It exists in no place or time.
BUT, ii this is true, either it exists in every place I
and at every time, or else only a part oi it so exists,
the other part transcending every place and time.
But, if in.nart it exists, aad in pa
74 ANSELM.
in every place and at every time, it has parts j .which
is false. It does not, therefore, exist everywhere and
always in part.
But how does it exist as a whole, everywhere and
always? For, either it is to be understood that it ex
ists as a whole at once, in all places or at all times,
and by parts in individual places and times ; or, that
it exists as a whole, in individual places and times as
well.
But, if it exists by parts in individual places or
times, it is not exempt from composition and division
of parts ; which has been found to be in a high degree
alien to the supreme Nature. Hence, it does not so
exist, as a whole, in all places and at all times that it
exists by parts in individual places and times.
We are confronted, then, by the former alterna
tive, that is, how the supreme Nature can exist, as a
whole, in every^iruTiVld'ual piacg ancT timeT This Is
doubtles"?*Tmpossible, unless it either exists at once or
at different times in individual places or times. But,
since the law of place and the law of time, the inves
tigation of which it has hitherto been possible to pros
ecute in a single discussion, because they advanced
on exactly the same lines, here separate one from an
other and seem to avoid debate, as if by evasion in
diverse directions, let each be investigated indepen
dently in discussion directed on itself alone.
First, then, let us see whether the supreme Nature
can exist, as a whole, in individual places, either at
once in all, or at different times, in different places.
Then, let us make the same inquiry regarding the
times at which it can exist.
If, then, it exists as a whole in each individual •
place, then, for each individual place there is an indi- '
MONOLOGIUM. 75
' vidual whole. For, just as place is so distinguished
from place that there are individual places, so that
which exists as a whole, in one place, is so distinct
from that which exists as a whole at the same time,
in another place, that there are individual wholes.
For, of what exists as a whole, in any place, there is
no part that does not exist in that place. And that of
which there is no part that does not exist in a given
place, is no part of what exists at the same time out
side this place.
What exists as a whole, then, in any place, is no;
part of what exists at the same time outside that I
place. But, of that of which no part exists outside \
any given place, no part exists, at the same time, in
another place. How, then, can what exists as a
whole, in any place, exist simultaneously, as a whole,
in another place, if no part of it can at that time exist
in another place?
Since, then, one whole cannot exist as a whole in
different places at the same time, it follows that, for
individual places, there are individual wholes, if any
thing is to exist as a whole in different individual
places at once. Hence, if the supreme Nature exists i
as a whole, at one time, in every individual place, /
there are as many supreme Natures as there can be!
individual places; which it would be irrational to be
lieve. Therefore, it does_not_exist# as .a
time id indivTclual places.
If, however, at different times it exists, as a whole,
in individual places, then, when it is in one place,
there is in the meantime no good and no existence in
other places, since without it absolutely nothing ex
ists. But the absurdity of this supposition is proved
by the existence of places themselves, which are not
76 ANSELM.
nothing, but something. Therefore, the supreme Na
ture does not exist, as a whole, in individual places
at different times.
But, if neither at the same time nor at different
times does it exist, as a whole, in individual places,
it is evident that it does not at all exist, as a whole, /
in each individual place. We must now examine,
then, whether this supreme Nature exists, as a whole,
at individual times, either simultaneously or at dis
tinct times for individual times.
But, how can anything exist, as a whole, simul
taneously, at individual times, if these times are not
themselves simultaneous? But, if this Being exists,
as a whole, separately and at distinct times for indi
vidual times, just as a man exists as a whole yester
day, to-day, and to-morrrow ; it is properly said that
it was and is and will be. Its age, then, which is no
other than its eternity, does not exist, as a whole,
simultaneously, but it is distributed in parts accord
ing to the parts of time.
But its eternity is nothing else than itself. The
supreme Being, then, will be divided into parts, ac
cording to the divisions of time. For, if its age is
prolonged through periods of time, it has with this
time present, past, and future. But what else is its
age than its duration of existence, than its eternity?
Since, then, its eternity is nothing else than its
essence, as considerations set forth above irrefutably
prove; if its eternity has past, present, and future, its
essence also has, in consequence, past, present, and
future.
But what is past is not present or future; and
what is present is not past or future ; and what is fu
ture is not past or present. How, then, shall that
MONOLOGIUM. 77
proposition be valid, which was proved with clear and
logical cogency above, namely, that that supreme Na
ture is in no wise composite, but is supremely simple,
supremely immutable?— how shall this be so, if that
Nature is one thing, at one time, and another, at an
other, and has parts distributed according to times?
Or rather, if these earlier propositions are true, how
can these latter be possible? By no means, then, isi
past or future attributable to the creative Being, either!
its age or its eternity. For why has it not a present,
if it truly is? But was means past, and -will be future.
Therefore that Being never was, nor will be. Hence, *
it does not exist at distinct times, just as it does not I
exist, as a whole, simultaneously in different indi- 1
vidual times.
If, then, as our discussion has proved, it neither
so exists, as a whole, in all places or times that it ex
ists, as a whole, at one time in all, or by parts in in
dividual places and times; nor so that it exists, as a
whole, in individual times and places, it is manifest
that it does not in any way exist, as a whole, in every
time or place.
And, since, in like manner, it has been demon
strated that it neither so exists in every time or place,
that a part exists in every, and a part transcends
every, place and time, it is impossible that it exists
everywhere and always.
For, in no way can it be conceived to exist every
where and always, except either as a whole or in part.
But if it does not at all exist everywhere and always,
it will exist either finitely in some place or time, or in
none. But it has already been proved, that it cannot
exist finitely, in any place or time. In no place or
time, that is, nowhere and never does it exist. For
78 ANSELM.
it cannot exist, except in every or in some place or
time.
But, on the other hand, since it is irrefutably
established, not only that it exists through itself, and
without beginning and without end, but that without
it nothing anywhere or ever exists, it must exist every- 1
where and always.
CHAPTER XXII.
How it exists in every place and time, and in none.
How, then, shall these propositions, that are so
necessary according to our exposition, and so neces
sary according to our proof, be reconciled? Perhaps;
the supreme Nature exists in place and time in some
such way, that it is not prevented from so existing
simultaneously, as a whole, in different places orj
times, that there are not more wholes than one; and
that its age, which does not exist, except as true
eternity, is not distributed among past, present, andj
future.
For, to this law of space and time, nothing seems
to be subject, except the beings which so exist in \
space or time that they do not transcend extent of
space or duration of time. Hence, though of beings
of this class it is with all truth asserted that one and
the same whole cannot exist simultaneously, as a
whole, in different places or times ; in the case of
those beings which are not of this class, no such con
clusion is necessarily reached.
For it seems to be rightly said, that place is pre-
dicable only of objects whose magnitude place con
tains by including it, and includes by containing it}
and that time is predicable only of objects whose dura-
MONOLOGIUM. 79
tion time ends by measuring it, and measures by end
ing it. Hence, to any being, to whose spatial extent '
or duration no bound can be set, either by space or
time, no place or time is properly attributed. For,
seeing that place does not act upon it as place, nor
time as time, it is not irrational to say, that no place
is its place, and no time its time.
But, what evidently has no place or time is doubt
less by no means compelled to submit to the law of
place or time. No law of place or time, then, in any
way governs any nature, which no place or time limits
by some kind of restraint. But what rational con
sideration can by any course of reasoning fail to
reach the conclusion, that the Substance which creates
and is supreme among all beings, which must be alien
to, and free from, the nature and law of all things
which itself created from nothing, is limited by no re
straint of space or time; since, more truly, its power,
which is nothing else than its essence, contains and
includes under itself all these things which it created?
Is it not impudently foolish, too, to say either,
that space circumscribes the magnitude of truth, or,
that time measures its duration — truth, which regards
no greatness or smallness of spatial or temporal ex
tent at all?
Seeing, then, that this is the condition of place or
time ; that only whatever is limited by their bounds
neither escapes the law of parts — such as place fol
lows, according to magnitude, or such as time sub
mits to, according to duration — nor can in any way
be contained, as a whole, simultaneously by different
places or times; but whatever is in no wise confined'
by the restraint of place or time, is not compelled by
any law of places or times to multiplicity of parts,
8o ANSELM.
nor is it prevented from being present, as a whole and
simultaneously, in more places or times than one —
seeing, I say, that this is the condition governing
place or time, no doubt the supreme Substance, which
is encompassed by no restraint of place or time, is
bound by none of their laws.
Hence, since inevitable necessity requires that the
supreme Being, as a whole, be lacking to no place or
time, and no law of place or time prevents it from be
ing simultaneously in every place or time; it must,
be simultaneously present in every individual place,
or time. For, because it is present in one place, it is'
not therefore prevented from being present at the
same time, and in like manner in this, or that other,
place or time.
Nor, because it was, or is, or shall be, has any
part of its eternity therefore vanished from the pres
ent, with the past, which no longer is ; nor does it *
pass with the present, which is, for an instant ; nor is
it to come with the future, which is not yet.
For, by no means is that Being compelled or for
bidden by a law of space or time to exist, or not to
exist, at any place or time — the Being which, in no
wise, includes its own existence in space or time.
For, when the supreme Being is said to exist in space
or time, although the form of expression regarding it,
and regarding local and temporal natures, is the same,
because of the usage of language, yet the sense is dif
ferent, because of the unlikeness of the objects of dis
cussion. For in the latter case the same expression
has two meanings, namely: (i) that these objects are
present in those places and times in which they are
said to be, and (2) that they are contained by these
places and times themselves.
MONOLOGIUM. 8l
But in the case of the supreme Being, the first
sense only is intended, namely, that it is present; not
that it is also contained. If the usage of language
permitted, it would, therefore, seem to be more fit
tingly said, that it exists with place or time, than that
it exists in place or time. For the statement that a
thing exists in another implies that it is contained,
more than does the statement that it exists with an
other.
In no place or time, then, is this Being properly
said to exist, since it is contained by no other at all.
And yet it may be said, after a manner of its own, to
be in every place or time, since whatever else exists
is sustained by its presence, lest it lapse into nothing
ness. It exists in every place and time, because it is
absent from none ; and it exists in none, because it
has no place or time, and has not taken to itself dis
tinctions of place or time, neither here nor there, nor
anywhere, nor then, nor now, nor at any time; nor
does it exist in terms of this fleeting present, in which
we live, nor has it existed, nor will it exist, in terms
of past or future, since these are restricted to things
finite and mutable, which it is not.
And yet, these properties of time and place can,
in some sort, be ascribed to it, since it is just as truly
present in all finite and mutable beings as if it were
circumscribed by the same places, and suffered change
by the same times.
We have sufficient evidence, then, to dispel the
contradiction that threatened us ; as to how the high
est Being of all exists, everywhere and always, and
nowhere and never, that is, in every place and time,
and in no place or time, according to the consistent
truth of different senses of the terms employed.
82
CHAPTER XXIII.
How it is better conceived to exist everywhere than in every place
BUT, since it is plain that this supreme Nature is
not more truly in all places than in all existing things,
not as if it were contained by them, but as containing
all, by permeating all, why should it not be said to be
everywhere, in this sense, that it may be understood
rather to be in all existing things, than merely in all j
places, since this sense is supported by the truth of i
the fact, and is not forbidden by the proper significa
tion of the word of place?
For we often quite properly apply terms of place
to objects which are not places ; as, when I say that
the understanding is there in the soul, where rational
ity is. For, though there and where are adverbs of
place, yet, by no local limitation, does the mind con
tain anything, nor is either rationality or understand
ing contained.
Hence, as regards the truth of the matter, the su
preme Nature is more appropriately said to be every
where, in this sense, that it is in all existing things,
than in this sense, namely that it is merely in all
places. And since, as the reasons set forth above
show, it cannot exist otherwise, it must so be in all
existing things, that it is one and the same perfect
whole in every individual thing simultaneously.
CHAPTER XXIV
How it is better understood to exist always than at every time.
IT is also evident that this supreme Substance is
without beginning and without end ; that it has neither
MONOLOGIUM. 83
past, nor future, nor the temporal, that is, transient
present in which we live ; since its age, or eternity,
which is nothing else than itself, is immutable and
without parts. Is not, therefore, the term which
seems to mean all time more properly understood,
when applied to this Substance, to signify eternity,
which is never unlike itself, rather than a changing
succession of times, which is ever in some sort unlike
itself?
Hence, if this Being is said to exist always ; since,
for it, it is the same to exist and to live, no better
sense can be attached to this statement, than that it
exists or lives eternally, that is, it possesses intermin
able life, as a perfect whole at once. For its eternity
apparently is an interminable life, existing at once as
a perfect whole.
For, since it has already been shown that this
Substance is nothing else than its own life and its
own eternity, is in no wise terminable, and does not
exist, except as at once and perfectly whole, what
else is true eternity, which is consistent with the na
ture of that Substance alone, than an interminable
life, existing as at once and perfectly whole?
For this truth is, at any rate, clearly perceived
from the single fact that true eternity belongs only to
that substance which alone, as we have proved, was
not created, but is the creator, since true eternity is
conceived to be free from the limitations of beginning
and end ; and this is proved to be consistent with the
nature of no created being, from the very fact that
all such have been created from nothing.
84 ANSELM.
CHAPTER XXV.
It cannot suffer change by any accidents.1
BUT does not this Being, which has been shown
to exist as in every way substantially identical with
itself, sometimes exist as different from itself, at any
rate, accidentally? But how is it supremely immut
able, if it can, I will not say, be, but, be conceived of,
as variable by virtue of accidents? And, on the other
hand, does it not partake of accident, since even this
very fact that it is greater than all other natures and
that it is unlike them seems to be an accident in its
case (//// accidere} ? But what is the inconsistency be
tween susceptibility to certain facts, called accidents,
and natural immutability, if from the undergoing of
these accidents the substance undergoes no change?
For, of all the facts, called accidents, some are
understood not to be present or absent without some
variation in the subject of the accident — all colors,
for instance — while others are known not to effect any
change in a thing either by occurring or not occurring
— certain relations, for instance. For it is certain
that I am neither older nor younger than a man who
is not yet born, nor equal to him, nor like him. But
I shall be able to sustain and to lose all these rela
tions toward him, as soon as he shall have been born,
according as he shall grow, or undergo change through
divers qualities.
It is made clear, then, that of all those facts, called
accidents, a part bring some degree of mutability in
their train, while a part do not impair at all the im-
1 Accidents, as Anselm uses the term, are facts external to the essence of
a being, which may yet be conceived to produce changes in a mutable being.
MONOLOGIUM. 85
mutability of that in whose case they occur. Hence,
although the supreme Nature in its simplicity has
never undergone such accidents as cause mutation,
yet it does not disdain occasional expression in terms
of those accidents which are in no wise inconsistent
with supreme immutability; and yet there is no acci
dent respecting its essence, whence it would be con
ceived of, as itself variable.
Whence this conclusion, also, may be reached,
that it is susceptible of no accident; since, just as
those accidents, which effect some change by their
occurrence or non-occurrence, are by virtue of this
very effect of theirs regarded as being true accidents,
so those facts, which lack a like effect, are found to
be improperly called accidents. Therefore, this Es
sence is always, in every way, substantially identical
with itself ; and it is never in any way different from
itself, even accidentally. But, however it may be as
to the proper signification of the term accident, this is
undoubtedly true, that of the supremely immutable
Nature no statement can be made, whence it shall be
conceived of as mutable.
CHAPTER XXVI.
How this Being is said to be substance : it transcends all substance
and is individually whatever it is.
BUT, if what we have ascertained concerning the
simplicity of this Nature is established, how is it sub
stance? For, though every substance is susceptible'
of admixture of difference, or, at any rate, susceptible
of mutation by accidents, the immutable purity of
this Being is inaccessible to admixture or mutation,
in any form.
86 ANSELM.
How, then, shall it be maintained that it is a sub
stance of any kind, except as it is called substance for
being, and so transcends, as it is above, every sub
stance? For, as great as is the difference between
that Being, which is through itself whatever it is, and
which creates every other being from nothing, and a
being, which is made whatever it is through another,
from nothing; so much does the supreme Substance
differ from these beings, which are not what it is.
And, since it alone, of all natures, derives from itself,
without the help of another nature, whatever exist
ence it has, is it not whatever it is individually and
apart from association with its creatures?
Hence, if it ever shares any name with other be
ings, doubtless a very different signification of that
name is to be understood in its case.
CHAPTER XXVII.
It is not included among substances as commonly treated, yet it is
a substance and an indivisible spirit.
IT is, therefore, evident that in any ordinary treat
ment of substance, this Substance cannot be included,
from sharing in whose essence every nature is ex
cluded. Indeed, since every substance is treated either
as universal, i. e., as essentially common to more than
one substance, as being a man is common to individual
men ; or as individual, having a universal essence in
common with others, as individual men have in com
mon with individual men the fact that they are men ;
does any one conceive that, in the treatment of other
substances, that supreme Nature is included, which
neither divides itself into more substances than one,
MONOLOGIUM. 87
nor unites with any other, by virtue of a common
essence?
Yet, seeing that it not only most certainly exists,
but exists in the highest degree of all things ; and
since the essence of anything is usually called its sub
stance, doubtless if any worthy name can be given it,
there is no objection to our calling it substance.
And since no worthier essence than spirit and body
is known, and of these, spirit is more worthy than
body, it must certainly be maintained that this Being
is spirit and not body. But, seeing that one spirit ,
has not any parts, and there cannot be more spirits
than one of this kind, it must, by all means, be an in
divisible spirit. For since, as is shown above, it is
neither compounded of parts, nor can be conceived of
as mutable, through any differences or accidents, it is
impossible that it is divisible by any form of division.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
This Spirit exists simply, and created beings are not comparable
with him.
IT seems to follow, then, from the preceding con
siderations, that the Spirit which exists in so wonder
fully singular and so singularly wonderful a way of its
own is in some sort unique; while other beings which
seem to be comparable with it are not so.
For, by diligent attention it will be seen that that
Spirit alone exists simply, and perfectly, and abso
lutely ; while all other beings are almost non-existent,
and hardly exist at all. For, seeing that of this '
Spirit, because of its immutable eternity, it can in no
wise be said, in terms of any alteration, that it was or
will be, but simply that it is ; it is not now, by muta
tion, anything which it either was not at any time, or
will not be in the future. Nor does it fail to be now ;
what it was, or will be, at any time; but, whatever it'
is, it is, once for all, and simultaneously, and inter
minably. Seeing, I say, that its existence is of this
character, it is rightly said itself to exist simply, and
absolutely, and perfectly.
But since, on the other hand, all other beings, in
accordance with some cause, have at some time been,
or will be, by mutation, what they are not now; or
are what they were not, or will not be, at some time ;
and, since this former existence of theirs is no longer
a fact; and that future existence is not yet a fact;
and their existence in a transient, and most brief, and
scarcely existing, present is hardly a fact — since, then,
they exist in such mutability, it is not unreasonably
denied that they exist simply, and perfectly, and ab
solutely; and it is asserted that they are almost non
existent, that they scarcely exist at all.
Again, since all beings, which are other than this
Spirit himself, have come from non-existence to exist
ence, not through themselves, but through another;
and, since they return from existence to non-existence,
so far as their own power is concerned, unless they
are sustained through another being, is it consistent
with their nature to exist simply, or perfectly, or ab
solutely, and not rather to be almost non-existent
And since the existence of this ineffable Spirit
alone can in no way be conceived to have taken in
ception from non-existence, or to be capable of sus
taining any deficiency rising from what is in non-
existence; and since, whatever he is himself, he is
not through another than himself, that is, than what
he is himself, ought not his existence alone to be con
ceived of as simple, and perfect, and absolute?
MONOLOGIUM. 89
But what is thus simply, and on every ground,
solely perfect, simple, and absolute, this may very
certainly be justly said to be in some sort unique.
And, on the other hand, whatever is known to exist
through a higher cause, and neither simply, nor per
fectly, nor absolutely, but scarcely to exist, or to be
almost non-existent — this assuredly may be rightly
said to be in some sort non-existent.
According to this course of reasoning, then, the
creative Spirit alone exists, and all creatures are non
existent ; yet, they are not wholly non-existent, be
cause, through that Spirit which alone exists abso
lutely, they have been made something from nothing.
CHAPTER XXIX.
His expression is identical with himself, and consubstantial with
him, since there are not two spirits, but one.
BUT now, having considered these questions re
garding the properties of the supreme Nature, which
have occurred to me in following the guidance of rea
son to the present point, I think it reasonable to ex
amine this Spirit's expression (locutio), through which
all things were created.
For, though all that has been ascertained regard
ing this expression above has the inflexible strength
of reason, I am especially compelled to a more care
ful discussion of this expression by the fact that it is
proved to be identical with the supreme Spirit him
self. For, if this Spirit created nothing except through
himself, and whatever was created by him was created
through that expression, how shall that expression be
anything else than what the Spirit himself is?
Furthermore, the facts already discovered declare
90 ANSELM.
irrefutably that nothing at all ever could, or can, ex
ist, except the creative Spirit and its creatures. But
it is impossible that the expression of this Spirit is
included among created beings; for every created
being was created through that expression ; but that
expression could not be created through itself. For
nothing can be created through itself, since every
creature exists later than that through which it is cre
ated, and nothing exists later than itself.
The alternative remaining is, then, that this ex- '
pression of the supreme Spirit, since it cannot be a '«
creature, is no other than the supreme Spirit. There
fore, this expression itself can be conceived of as noth
ing else than the intelligence (intelligentia) of this
Spirit, by which he conceives of (intelligif) all things.
For, to him, what is expressing anything, according
to this kind of expression, but conceiving of it? For
he does not, like man, ever fail to express what he
conceives.
If, then, the supremely simple Nature is nothing
else than what its intelligence is, just as it is identical
with its wisdom, necessarily, in the same way, it is
nothing else than what its expression is. But, since
it is already manifest that the supreme Spirit is one
only, and altogether indivisible, this his expression
must be so consubstantial with him, that they are not
two spirits, but one.
CHAPTER XXX.
This expression does not consist of more words than one, but is
one Word.
WHY, then, should I have any further doubt re
garding that question which I dismissed above as
doubtful, namely, whether this expression consists of
MONOLOGIUM. QI
more words than one, or of one? For, if it is so con-
substantial with the supreme Nature that they are not
two spirits, but one ; assuredly, just as the latter is
supremely simple, so is the former. It therefore does
not consist of more words than one, but is one Word,
through which all things were created.
CHAPTER XXXI.
This Word itself is not the likeness of created beings, but the real
ity of their being, while created beings are a kind of likeness
of reality. — What natures are greater and more excellent than
others.
BUT here, it seems to me, there arises a question
that is not easy to answer, and yet must not be left in
any ambiguity. For all words of that sort by which
we express any objects in our mind, that is, conceive
of them, are likenesses and images of the objects to
which they correspond; and every likeness or image
is more or less true, according as it more or less
closely imitates the object of which it is the likeness.
What, then, is to be our position regarding the
Word by which all things are expressed, and through
which all were created? Will it be, or will it not be,
the likeness of the things that have been created
through itself? For, if it is itself the true likeness of
mutable things, it is not consubstantial with supreme
immutability; which is false. But, if it is not alto
gether true, and is merely a sort of likeness of mu
table things, then the Word of supreme Truth is not
altogether true ; which is absurd. But if it has no
likeness to mutable things, how were they created
after its example?
But perhaps nothing of this ambiguity will remain
if — as the reality of a man is said to be the living
92 ANSELM.
man, but the likeness or image of a man in his picture
— so the reality of being is conceived of as in the
Word, whose essence exists so supremely that in a
certain sense it alone exists; while in these things
which, in comparison with that Essence, are in some
sort non-existent, and yet were made something
through, and according to, that Word, a kind of imi
tation of that supreme Essence is found.
For, in this way the Word of supreme Truth,
which is also itself supreme Truth, will experience
neither gain nor loss, according as it is more or less
like its creatures. But the necessary inference will
rather be, that every created being exists in so much
the greater degree, or is so much the more excellent,
the more like it is to what exists supremely, and is
supremely great.
For on this account, perhaps, — nay, not perhaps,
but certainly, — does every mind judge natures in any
way alive to excel those that are not alive, the sen
tient to excel the non-sentient, the rational the irra
tional. For, since the supreme Nature, after a certain
unique manner of its own, not only exists, but lives,
and is sentient and rational, it is clear that, of all ex
isting beings, that which is in some way alive is more
like this supreme Nature, than that which is not alive
at all; and what, in any way, even by a corporeal
sense, cognises anything, is more like this Nature
than what is not sentient at all; and what is rational,
more than what is incapable of reasoning.
But it is clear, for a like reason, that certain na
tures exist in a greater or less degree than others.
For, just as that is more excellent by nature which,
through its natural essence, is nearer to the most ex
cellent Being, so certainly that nature exists in a
MONOLOGIUM. 93
greater degree, whose essence is more like the su
preme Essence. And I think that this can easily be
ascertained as follows. If we should conceive any
substance that is alive, and sentient, and rational, to
be deprived of its reason, then of its sentience, then
of its life, and finally of the bare existence that re
mains, who would fail to understand that the sub
stance that is thus destroyed, little by little, is gradu
ally brought to smaller and smaller degrees of exist
ence, and at last to non-existence? But the attributes
which, taken each by itself, reduce an essence to less
and less degrees of existence, if assumed in order,
lead it to greater and greater degrees.
It is evident, then, that a living substance exists
in a greater degree than one that is not living, a sen
tient than a non-sentient, and a rational than a non-
rational. So, there is no doubt that every substance
exists in a greater degree, and is more excellent, ac
cording as it is more like that substance which exists
supremely and is supremely excellent.
It is sufficiently clear, then, that in the Word,
through which all things were created, is not their
likeness, but their true and simple essence; while, in
the things created, there is not a simple and absolute
essence, but an imperfect imitation of that true Es
sence. Hence, it necessarily follows, that this Word
is not more nor less true, according to its likeness to
the things created, but every created nature has a
higher essence and dignity, the more it is seen to ap
proach that Word.
94
CHAPTER XXXII.
The supreme Spirit expresses himself by a coeternal Word.
BUT since this is true, how can what is simple
Truth be the Word corresponding to those objects,
of which it is not the likeness? Since every word by
which an object is thus mentally expressed is the like
ness of that object, if this is not the word correspond
ing to the objects that have been created through it,
how shall we be sure that it is the Word? For every
word is a word corresponding to some object. There
fore, if there were no creature, there would be no
word.
Are we to conclude, then, that if there were no
creature, that Word would not exist at all, which is
the supreme self-sufficient Essence? Or, would the
supreme Being itself, perhaps, which is the Word,
still be the eternal Being, but not the Word, if noth
ing were ever created through that Being? For, to
what has not been, and is not, and will not be, there
can be no word corresponding.
But, according to this reasoning, if there were
never any being but the supreme Spirit, there would
be no word at all in him. If there were no word in,
him, he would express nothing to himself; if he ex
pressed nothing to himself, since, for him, expressing
anything is the same with understanding or conceiv
ing of it (intelligere), he would not understand or con
ceive of anything ; if he understood or conceived of
nothing, then the supreme Wisdom, which is nothing
else than this Spirit, would understand or conceive of
nothing ; which is most absurd.
MONOLOGIUM. 95
What is to be inferred? For, if it conceived of
nothing, how would it be the supreme Wisdom? Or,
if there were in no wise anything but it, of what would
it conceive? Would it not conceive of itself? But
how can it be even imagined that the supreme Wis
dom, at any time does not conceive of itself; since a
rational mind can remember not only itself, but that
supreme Wisdom, and conceive of that Wisdom and
of itself? For, if the human mind could have no mem
ory or concept of that Wisdom or of itself, it would
not distinguish itself at all from irrational creatures,
and that Wisdom from the whole created world, in
silent meditation by itself, as my mind does now.
Hence, that Spirit, supreme as he is eternal, is
thus eternally mindful of himself, and conceives of
himself after the likeness of a rational mind ; nay, not
after the likeness of anything ; but in the first place
that Spirit, and the rational mind after its likeness.
But, if he conceives of himself eternally, he expresses
himself eternally. If he expresses himself eternally,
his Word is eternally with him. Whether, therefore,
it be thought of in connection with no other existing
being, or with other existing beings, the Word of that
Spirit must be coeternal with him.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
He utters himself and what he creates by a single consubstantial
Word.
BUT here, in my inquiry concerning the Word, by
which the Creator expresses all that he creates, is sug
gested the word by which he, who creates all, ex
presses himself. Does he express himself, then, by
one word, and what he creates by another; or does
96 ANSELM.
he rather express whatever he creates by the same
word whereby he expresses himself?
For this Word also, by which he expresses him
self, must be identical with himself, as is evidently
true of the Word by which he expresses his creatures.
For since, even if nothing but that supreme Spirit
ever existed, urgent reason would still require the ex
istence of that word by which he expresses himself,
what is more true than that his Word is nothing else
than what he himself is? Therefore, if he expresses
himself and what he creates, by a Word consubstan-
tial with himself, it is manifest that of the Word by
which he expresses himself, and of the Word by which
he expresses the created world, the substance is one.
How, then, if the substance is one, are there two
words? But, perhaps, identity of substance does not
compel us to admit a single Word. For the Creator
himself, who speaks in these words, has the same sub
stance with them, and yet is not the Word. But, un
doubtedly the word by which the supreme Wisdom
expresses itself may most fitly be called its Word on
the former ground, namely, that it contains the per
fect likeness of that Wisdom.
For, on no ground can it be denied that when a
rational mind conceives of itself in meditation the im
age of itself arises in its thought, or rather the thought
of the mind is itself its image, after its likeness, as if
formed from its impression. For, whatever object
the mind, either through representation of the body
or through reason, desires to conceive of truly, it at
least attempts to express its likeness, so far as it is
able, in the mental concept itself. And the more truly
it succeeds in this, the more truly does it think of the
object itself; and, indeed, this fact is observed more
MONOLOG1UM. 97
clearly when it thinks of something else which it is
not, and especially when it thinks of a material body.
For, when I think of a man I know, in his absence,
the vision of my thought forms such an image as I
have acquired in memory through my ocular vision
and this image is the word corresponding to the man
I express by thinking of him.
The rational mind, then, when it conceives of it-,
self in thought, has with itself its image born of itself
that is, its thought in its likeness, as if formed from
its impression, although it cannot, except in thought
alone, separate itself from its image, which image is
its word.
Who, then, can deny that the supreme Wisdom,
when it conceives of itself by expressing itself, begets
a likeness of itself consubstantial with it, namely, its
Word? And this Word, although of a subject so j
uniquely important nothing can be said with sufficient
propriety, may still not inappropriately be called the
image of that Wisdom, its representation, just as it is
called his likeness.
But the Word by which the Creator expresses the
created world is not at all, in the same way, a word
corresponding to the created world, since it is not
this world's likeness, but its elementary essence. It
therefore follows, that he does not express the created
world itself by a word corresponding to the created
world. To what, then, does the word belong, whereby
he expresses it, if he does not express it by a word
belonging to itself? For what he expresses, he ex
presses by a word, and a word must belong to some
thing, that is, it is the likeness of something. But if
he expresses nothing but himself or his created world
98 ANSELM.
he can express nothing, except by a word correspond
ing to himself or to something else.
So, if he expresses nothing by a word belonging
to the created world, whatever he expresses, he ex
presses by the Word corresponding to himself. By
one and the same Word, then, he expresses himself
and whatever he has made.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
How he can express the created world by his Word.
BUT how can objects so different as the creative
and the created being be expressed by one Word,
especially since that Word itself is coeternal with him
who expresses them, while the created world is not
coeternal with him? Perhaps, because he himself is
supreme Wisdom and supreme Reason, in which are
all things that have been created; just as a work
which is made after one of the arts, not only when it
is made, but before it is made, and after it is destroyed,
is always in respect of the art itself nothing else than
what that art is.
Hence, when the supreme Spirit expresses him
self, he expresses all created beings. For, both be
fore they were created, and now that they have been
created, and after they are decayed or changed in any
way, they are ever in him not what they are in them
selves, but what this Spirit himself is. For, in them
selves they are mutable beings, created according to
immutable reason ; while in him is the true first being,
and the first reality of existence, the more like unto
which those beings are in any way, the more really
and excellently do they exist. Thus, it may reason
ably be declared that, when the supreme Spirit ex-
MONOLOGIUM. 99
presses himself, he also expresses whatever has been
created by one and the same Word.
CHAPTER XXXV.
Whatever has been created is in his Word and knowledge, life and
truth.
BUT, since it is established that his word is con-
substantial with him, and perfectly like him, it neces
sarily follows that all things that exist in him exist
also, and in the same way, in his Word. Whatever
has been created, then, whether alive or not alive, or
howsoever it exists in itself, is very life and truth in
him.
But, since knowing is the same to the supreme
Spirit as conceiving or expressing, he must know all
things that he knows in the same way in which he
expresses or conceives of them. Therefore, just as
all things are in his Word life and truth, so are they
in his knowledge.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
In how incomprehensible a way he expresses or knows the objects
created by him.
HENCE, it may be most clearly comprehended that
how this Spirit expresses, or how he knows the cre
ated world, cannot be comprehended by human knowl
edge. For none can doubt that created substances
exist far differently in themselves than in our knowl-/
edge. For, in themselves they exist by virtue of theirj
own being; while in our knowledge is not their being,
but their likeness.
We conclude, then, that they exist more truly in
themselves than in our knowledge, in the same degree
in which they exist more truly anywhere by virtue of
their own being, than by virtue of their likeness.
Therefore, since this is also an established truth, that
every created substance exists more truly in the Word,
that is, in the intelligence of the Creator, than it does
in itself, in the same degree in which the creative be
ing exists more truly than the created; how can the
human mind comprehend of what kind is that expres
sion and that knowledge, which is so much higher !
and truer than created substances ; if our knowledge
is as far surpassed by those substances as their like
ness is removed from their being?
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Whatever his relation to his creatures, this relation his Word also
sustains: yet both do not simultaneously sustain this relation
as more than one being.
BUT since it has already been clearly demonstrated
that the supreme Spirit created all things through his
Word, did not the Word itself also create all things?
For, since it is consubstantial with him, it must be
the supreme essence of that of which it is the Word.
But there is no supreme Essence, except one, which,
is the only creator and the only beginning of all things
which have been created. For this Essence, through-
no other than itself, alone created all things from
nothing. Hence, whatever the supreme Spirit creates, ,
the same his Word also creates, and in the same way.
Whatever relation, then, the supreme Spirit bears'
to what he creates, this relation his Word also bears,
and in the same way. And yet, both do not bear it
simultaneously, as more than one, since there are not
more supreme creative essences than one. Therefore,
MONOLGGIUM. IOI
just as he is the creator and the beginning of the
world, so is his Word also ; and yet there are not two, /
but one creator and one beginning.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
It cannot be explained why they are two, although they must be so.
OUR careful attention is therefore demanded by a
peculiarity which, though most unusual in other be
ings, seems to belong to the supreme Spirit and his
Word. For, it is certain that in each of these sepa-'
rately and in both simultaneously, whatever they are
so exists that it is separately perfected in both, and
yet does not admit plurality in the two. For although,
taken separately, he is perfectly supreme Truth and
Creator, and his Word is supreme Truth and Creator;
yet both at once are not two truths or two creators.
But although this is true, yet it is most remarkably
clear that neither he, whose is the Word, can be his
own Word, nor can the Word be he, whose Word it
is, although in so far as regards either what they are
substantially, or what relation they bear to the cre
ated world, they ever preserve an indivisible unity.
But in respect of the fact that he does not derive ex
istence from that Word, but that Word from him,
they admit an ineffable plurality, ineffable, certainly,
for although necessity requires that they be two, it
can in no wise be explained why they are two.
For although they may perhaps be called two
equals, or some other mutual relation may in like
manner be attributed to them, yet if it were to be
asked what it is in these very relative expressions
with reference to which they are used, it cannot be
expressed plurally, as one speaks of two equal lines,
IO2 ANSELM.
or two like men. For, neither are there two equal
spirits nor two equal creators, nor is there any dual
expression which indicates either their essence or
their relation to the created world ; and there is no
dual expression which designates the peculiar relation
of the one to the other, since there are neither two
words nor two images.
For the Word, by virtue of the fact that it is a
word or image, bears a relation to the other, because
it is Word and image only as it is the Word and im
age of something ; and so peculiar are these attri
butes to the one that they are by no means predicable
of the other. For he, whose is the Word and image,
is neither image nor Word. It is, therefore, evident
that it cannot be explained why they are two, the su
preme Spirit and the Word, although by certain prop
erties of each they are required to be two. For it is
the property of the one to derive existence from the
other, and the property of that other that the first de
rives existence from him.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
This Word derives existence from the supreme Spirit by birth.
AND this truth, it seems, can be expressed in no
more familiar terms than when it is said to be the
property of the one, to be born of the other ; and of
the other, that the first is born of him. For it is now
clearly proved, that the Word of the supreme Spirit
does not derive existence from him, as do those be
ings which have been created by him ; but as Creator
from Creator, supreme Being from supreme Being.
And, to dispose of this comparison with all brevity,
it is one and the same being, which derives existence
MONOLOGIUM. 103
from one and the same being, and on such terms, that
it in no wise derives existence, except from that be
ing.
Since it is evident, then, that the Word of the su
preme Spirit so derives existence from him alone, that
it is completely analogous to the offspring of a parent ;
and that it does not derive existence from him, as if
it were created by him, doubtless no more fitting sup
position can be entertained regarding its origin, than
that it derives existence from the supreme Spirit by
birth (nascendo}.
For, innumerable objects are unhesitatingly said
to be born of those things from which they derive ex
istence, although they possess no such likeness to
those things of which they are said to be born, as off
spring to a parent. — We say, for instance, that the
hair is born of the head, or the fruit of the tree,
although the hair does not resemble the head, nor the
fruit the tree.
If, then, many objects of this sort are without ab
surdity said to be born, so much the more fittingly
may the Word of the supreme Spirit be said to derive
existence from him by birth, the more perfect the re
semblance it bears to him, like a child's to its parent,
through deriving existence from him.
CHAPTER XL.
He is most truly a parent, and that Word his offspring.
BUT if it is most properly said to be born, and is
so like him of whom it is born, why should it be
esteemed like, as a child is like his parent? why should
it not rather be declared, that the Spirit is more truly
a parent, and the Word his offspring, the more he
IO4 ANSELM.
alone is sufficient to effect this birth, and the more
what is born expresses his likeness? For, among other
beings which we know bear the relations of parent
and child, none so begets as to be solely and without
accessory, sufficient to the generation of offspring;
and none is so begotten that without any admixture
of unlikeness, it shows complete likeness to its pa
rent.
If, then, the Word of the supreme Spirit so de
rives its complete existence from the being of that
Spirit himself alone, and is so uniquely like him, that
no child ever so completely derives existence from its
parent, and none is so like its parent, certainly the
relation of parent and offspring can be ascribed to no
beings so consistently as to the supreme Spirit and
his Word. Hence, it is his property to be most truly
parent, and its to be most truly his offspring.
CHAPTER XLI.
He most truly begets, and it is most truly begotten.
BUT it will be impossible to establish this proposi
tion, unless, in equal degree, he most truly begets,
and it is most truly begotten. As the former supposi
tion is evidently true, so the latter is necessarily most
certain. Hence, it belongs to the supreme Spirit most
truly to beget, and to his Word to be most truly be
gotten.
CHAPTER XLII.
It is the property of the one to be most truly progenitor and Fa
ther, and of the other to be the begotten and Son.
I should certainly be glad, and perhaps able, now
to reach the conclusion, that he is most truly the Fa-
MONOLOGIUM. 105
ther, while this Word is most truly his Son. But I
think that even this question should not be neglected :
whether it is more fitting to call them Father and
Son, than mother and daughter, since in them there
is no distinction of sex.
For, if it is consistent with the nature of the one
to be the Father, and of his offspring to be the Son,
because both are Spirit (Spiritus, masculine) ; why js
it not, with equal reason, consistent with the nature
of the one to be the mother, and the other the daugh
ter, since both are truth and wisdom (yeritas et sa-
fientia, feminine)?
Or, is it because in these natures that have a dif
ference of sex, it belongs to the superior sex to be
father or son, and to the inferior to be mother or
daughter? And this is certainly a natural fact in most
instances, but in some the contrary is true, as among
certain kinds of birds, among which the female is
always larger and stronger, while the male is smaller
and weaker.
At any rate, it is more consistent to call the su
preme Spirit father than mother, for this reason, that
the first and principal cause of offspring is always in
the father. For, if the maternal cause is ever in some
way preceded by the paternal, it is exceedingly incon
sistent that the name mother should be attached to
that parent with which, for the generation of offspring,
no other cause is associated, and which no other pre
cedes. It is, therefore, most true that the supreme
Spirit is Father of his offspring. But, if the son is
always more like the father than is the daughter, while
nothing is more like the supreme Father than his off
spring ; then it is most true that this offspring is not
a daughter, but a Son.
106 ANSELM.
Hence, just as it is the property of the one most
truly to beget, and of the other to be begotten, so it
is the property of the one to be most truly progenitor,
and of the other to be most truly begotten. And as
the one is most truly the parent, and the other his
offspring, so the one is most truly Father, and the
other most truly Son.
CHAPTER XLIII.
Consideration of the common attributes of both and the individual
properties of each.
Now that so many and so important properties of
each have been discovered, whereby a strange plural
ity, as ineffable as it is inevitable, is proved to exist
in the supreme unity, I think it most interesting to
reflect, again and again, upon so unfathomable a mys
tery.
For observe: although it is so impossible that he
who begets, and he who is begotten, are the same,
and that parent and offspring are the same — so im
possible that necessarily one must be the progenitor
and the other the begotten, and one the Father, the
other the Son ; yet, here it is so necessary that he who
begets and he who is begotten shall be the same, and
also that parent and offspring shall be the same, that
the progenitor cannot be any other than what the be
gotten is, nor the Father any other than the Son.
And although the one is one, and the other an
other, so that it is altogether evident that they are
two ; yet that which the one and the other are is in
such a way one and the same, that it is a most ob
scure mystery why they are two. For, in such a way
is one the Father and the other the Son, that when I
speak of both I perceive that I have spoken of two ;
MONOLOGIUM. 107
and yet so identical is that which both Father and
Son are, that I do not understand why they are two
of whom I have spoken.
For, although the Father separately is the per
fectly supreme Spirit, and the Son separately is the
perfectly supreme Spirit, yet, so are the Spirit-Father
and the Spirit-Son one and the same being, that the
Father and the Son are not two spirits, but one Spirit.
For, just as to separate properties of separate beings,
plurality is not attributed, since they are not proper
ties of two things, so, what is common to both pre
serves an indivisible unity, although it belongs, as a
whole, to them taken separately.
For, as there are not two fathers or two sons, but
one Father and one Son, since separate properties
belong to separate beings, so there are not two spirits,
but one Spirit ; although it belongs both to the Father,
taken separately, and to the Son, taken separately, to
be the perfect Spirit. For so opposite are their rela
tions, that the one never assumes the property of the
other; so harmonious are they in nature, that the one
ever contains the essence of the other. For they are
so diverse by virtue of the fact that the one is the
Father and the other the Son, that the Father is
never called the Son, nor the Son the Father; and
they are so identical, by virtue of their substance,
that the essence of the Son is ever in the Father, and
the essence of the Father in the Son.
CHAPTER XLIV. ,
How one is the essence of the other.
HENCE, even if one is called the essence of the
other, there is no departure from truth ; but the su-
108 ANSELM.
preme simplicity and unity of their common nature is
thus honored. For, not as one conceives of a man's
wisdom, through which man is wise, though he can
not be wise through himself, can we thus understand
the statement that the Father is essence of the Son,
and the Son the essence of the Father. We cannot
understand that the Son is existent through the Fa
ther, and the Father through the Son, as if the one
could not be existent except through the other, just
as a man cannot be wise except through wisdom.
For, as the supreme Wisdom is ever wise through
itself, so the supreme Essence ever exists through it
self. But, the perfectly supreme Essence is the Fa
ther, and the perfectly supreme Essence is the Son.
Hence, the perfect Father and the perfect Son exist,
each through himself, just as each is wise through
himself.
For the Son is not the less perfect essence or wis
dom because he is an essence born of the essence of
the Father, and a wisdom born of the wisdom of the
Father; but he would be a less perfect essence or
wisdom if he did not exist through himself, and were
not wise through himself.
For, there is no inconsistency between the subsist
ence of the Son through himself, and his deriving ex
istence from his Father. For, as the Father has es
sence, and wisdom, and life in himself; so that not
through another's, but through his own, essence he
exists; through his own wisdom he is wise; through
his own life he lives ; so, by generation, he grants to
his Son the possession of essence, and wisdom, and
life in himself, so that not through an extraneous es
sence, wisdom, and life, but through his own, he sub
sists, is wise, and lives ; otherwise, the existence of
MONOLOGIUM. IOQ
Father and Son will not be the same, nor will the Son
be equal to the Father. But it has already been
clearly proved how false this supposition is.
Hence, there is no inconsistency between the sub
sistence of the Son through himself, and his deriving
existence from the Father, since he must have from
the Father this very power of subsisting through him
self. For, if a wise man should teach me his wisdom,
which I formerly lacked, he might without impropri
ety be said to teach me by this very wisdom of his.
But, although my wisdom would derive its existence,
and the fact of its being from his wisdom, yet when'
my wisdom once existed, it would be no other essence
than its own, nor would it be wise except through
itself.
Much more, then, the eternal Father's eternal Son,
who so derives existence from the Father that they
are not two essences, subsists, is wise, and lives
through himself. Hence, it is inconceivable that the
Father should be the essence of the Son, or the Son
the essence of the Father, on the ground that the one
could not subsist through itself, but must subsist
through the other. But in order to indicate how they
share in an essence supremely simple and supremely
one, it may consistently be said, and conceived, that
the one is so identical with the other that the one
possesses the essence of the other.
On these grounds, then, since there is obviously
no difference between possessing an essence and be
ing an essence, just as the one possesses the essence
of the other, so the one is the essence of the other,
that is, the one has the same existence with the other.
ANSELM.
CHAPTER XLV.
The Son may more appropriately be called the essence of the
Father, than the Father the essence of the Son : and in like
manner the Son is the virtue, wisdom, etc., of the Father.
AND although, for reasons we have noted, this is
true, it is much more proper to call the Son the es
sence of the Father than the Father the' essence of
the Son. For, since the Father has his being from
none other than himself, it is not wholly appropriate
to say that he has the being of another than himself;
while, since the Son has his being from the Father,
and has the same essence with his Father, he may
most appropriately be said to have the essence of his
Father.
Hence, seeing that neither has an essence, except
by being an essence ; as the Son is more appropriately
conceived to have the essence of the Father than the
Father to have the essence of the Son, so the Son
may more fitly be called the essence of the Father
than the Father the essence of the son. For this
single explanation proves, with sufficiently emphatic
brevity, that the Son not only has the same essence
with the Father, but has this very essence from the
Father; so that, to assert that the Son is the essence
of the Father is the same as to assert that the Son is
not a different essence from the essence of the Father
nay, from the Father-essence.
In like manner, therefore, the Son is the virtue of
the Father, and his wisdom, and justice, and what
ever is consistently attributed to the essence of the
supreme Spirit.
MONOLOGIUM.
CHAPTER XLVI.
How some of these truths which are thus expounded may also be
conceived of in another way.
YET, some of these truths, which may be thus ex
pounded and conceived of, are apparently capable of
another interpretation as well, not inconsistent with
this same assertion. For it is proved that the Son
is the true Word, that is, the perfect intelligence, con
ceiving of the whole substance of the Father, or per
fect cognition of that substance, and knowledge of it,
and wisdom regarding it ; that is, it understands, and
conceives of, the very essence of the Father, and cog
nises it, and knows it, and is wise (sap if) regarding it.
If, then, in this sense, the Son is called the intelli
gence of the Father, and wisdom concerning him, and
knowledge and cognition of him, and acquaintance
with him ; since the Son understands and conceives
of the Father, is wise concerning him, knows and is
acquainted with him, there is no departure from truth.
Most properly, too, may the Son be called the
truth of the Father, not only in the sense that the
truth of the Son is the same with that of the Father,
as we have already seen; but in this sense, also, that
in him no imperfect imitation shall be conceived of,
but the complete truth of the substance of the Father
since he is no other than what the Father is.
CHAPTER XLVII.
The Son is the intelligence of intelligence and the Truth of truth
BUT if the very substance of the Father is intelli
gence, and knowledge, and wisdom, and truth, it is
consequently inferred that as the Son is the intelli
gence, and knowledge, and wisdom, and truth, of the
paternal substance, so he is the intelligence of intelli
gence, the knowledge of knowledge, the wisdom of
wisdom, and the truth of truth.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
How the Son is the intelligence or wisdom of memory or the mem
ory of the Father and of memory.
BUT what is to be our notion of memory ? Is the
Son to be regarded as the intelligence conceiving of
memory, or as the memory of the Father, or as the
memory of memory? Indeed, since it cannot be de
nied that the supreme Wisdom remembers itself, noth
ing can be more consistent than to regard the Father
as memory, just as the Son is the Word; because the
Word is apparently born of memory, a fact that is
more clearly seen in the case of the human mind.
For, since the human mind is not always thinking
of itself, though it ever remembers itself, it is clear
that, when it thinks of itself, the word corresponding
to it is born of memory. Hence, it appears that, if it
always thought of itself, its word would be always
born of memory. For, to think of an object of which
we have remembrance, this is to express it mentally;
while the word corresponding to the object is the
thought itself, formed after the likeness of that object
from memory.
Hence, it may be clearly apprehended in the su
preme Wisdom, which always thinks of itself, just as
it remembers itself, that, of the eternal remembrance
of it, its coeternal Word is born. Therefore, as the
Word is properly conceived of as the child, the mem-
MONOLOGIUM. 1 13
ory most appropriately takes the name of parent. If,
then, the child which is born of the supreme Spirit
alone is the child of his "memory, there can be no more
logical conclusion than that his memory is himself.
For not in respect of the fact that he remembers him
self does he exist in his own memory, like ideas that
exist in the human memory, without being the mem
ory itself; but he so remembers himself that he is his
own memory.
It therefore follows that, just as the Son is the in
telligence or wisdom of the Father, so he is that of
the memory of the Father. But, regarding whatever
the Son has wisdom or understanding, this he like
wise remembers. The Son is, therefore, the memory
of the Father, and the memory of memory, that is,
the memory that remembers the Father, who is mem
ory, just as he is the wisdom of the Father, and the
wisdom of wisdom, that is, the wisdom wise regard
ing the wisdom of the Father; and the Son is indeed
memory, born of memory, as he is wisdom, born of
wisdom, while the Father is memory and wisdom born
of none.
CHAPTER XLIX.
The supreme Spirit loves himself.
BUT, while I am here considering with interest the
individual properties and the common attributes of
Father and Son, I find none in them more pleasur
able to contemplate than the feeling of mutual love.
For how absurd it would be to deny that the supreme
Spirit loves himself, just as he remembers himself,
and conceives of himself ! since even the rational hu
man mind is convinced that it can love both itself and
him, because it can remember itself and him, and can
114 ANSELM.
conceive of itself and of him ; for idle and almost use
less is the memory and conception of any object, un
less, so far as reason requires, the object itself is loved
or condemned. The supreme Spirit, then, loves him
self, just as he remembers himself and conceives of
himself.
CHAPTER L.
The same love proceeds equally from Father and Son.
IT is, at any rate, clear to the rational man that
he does not remember himself or conceive of himself
because he loves himself, but he loves himself be
cause he remembers himself and conceives of himself;
and that he could not love himself if he did not re
member and conceive of himself. For no object is
loved without remembrance or conception of it ; while
many things are retained in memory and conceived
of that are not loved.
It is evident, then, that the love of the supreme
Spirit proceeds from the fact that he remember him
self and conceives of himself (se intelligif). But if,
by the memory of the supreme Spirit, we understand
the Father, and by his intelligence by which he con
ceives of anything, the Son, it is manifest that the
love of the supreme Spirit proceeds equally from
Father and Son.
CHAPTER LI.
Each loves himself and the other with equal love.
BUT if the supreme Spirit loves himself, no doubt
the Father loves himself, the Son loves himself, and
the one the other; since the Father separately is the
supreme Spirit, and the Son separately is the su-
MONOLOGIUM. 115
preme Spirit, and both at once one Spirit. And,
since each equally remembers himself and the other,
and conceives equally of himself and the other; and
since what is loved, or loves in the Father, or in the
Son, is altogether the same, necessarily each loves
himself and the other with an equal love.
CHAPTER LII.
This love is as great as the supreme Spirit himself.
How great, then, is this love of the supreme Spirit,
common as it is to Father and Son! But, if he loves
himself as much as he remembers and conceives of
himself; and, moreover, remembers and conceives of
himself in as great a degree as that in which his es
sence exists, since otherwise it cannot exist ; undoubt
edly his love is as great as he himself is.
CHAPTER LIII.
This love is identical with the supreme Spirit, and yet it is itself
with the Father and the Son one spirit.
BUT what can be equal to the supreme Spirit, ex
cept the supreme Spirit? That love is, then, the su
preme Spirit. Hence, if no creature, that is, if noth
ing other than the supreme Spirit, the Father and the
Son, ever existed; nevertheless, Father and Son
would love themselves and one another.
It therefore follows that this love is nothing else
than what the Father and the Son are, which is the
supreme Being. But, since there cannot be more
than one supreme Being, what inference can be more
necessary than that Father and Son and the love of
both are one supreme Being? Therefore, this love is
n6
supreme Wisdom, supreme Truth, the supreme Good,
and whatsoever can be attributed to the substance of
the supreme Spirit.
CHAPTER LIV.
It proceeds as a whole from the Father, and as a whole from the
Son, and yet does not exist except as one love.
IT should be carefully considered whether there
are two loves, one proceeding from the Father, the
other from the Son ; or one, not proceeding as a whole
from one, but in part from the Father, in part from
the Son; or neither more than one, nor one proceed
ing in part from each separately, but one proceeding
as a whole from each separately, and likewise as a
whole from the two at once.
But the solution of such a question can, without
doubt, be apprehended from the fact that this love
proceeds not from that in which Father and Son are
more than one, but from that in which they are one.
For, not from their relations, which are more than
one, but from their essence itself, which does not ad
mit of plurality, do Father and Son equally produce
so great a good.
Therefore, as the Father separately is the supreme
Spirit, and the Son separately is the supreme Spirit,
and Father and Son at once are not two,' but one
Spirit; so from the Father separately the love of the
supreme Spirit emanates as a whole, and from the
Son as a whole, and at once from Father and Son,
not as two, but as one and the same whole.
MONOLOGIUM. 117
CHAPTER LV.
This love is not their Son.
SINCE this love, then, has its being equally from
Father and Son, and is so like both that it is in no
wise unlike them, but is altogether identical with
them ; is it to be regarded as their Son or offspring?
But, as the Word, so soon as it is examined, declares
itself to be the offspring of him from whom it derives
existence, by displaying a manifold likeness to its
parent ; so love plainly denies that it sustains such a
relation, since, so long as it is conceived to proceed
from Father and Son, it does not at once show to one
who contemplates it so evident a likeness to him from
whom it derives existence, although deliberate reason
ing teaches us that it is altogether identical with
Father and Son.
Therefore, if it is their offspring, either one of
them is its father and the other its mother, or each is
its father, or mother, — suppositions which apparently
contradict all truth. For, since it proceeds in pre
cisely the same way from the Father as from the Son,
regard for truth does not allow the relations of Father
and Son to it to be described by different words ;
therefore, the one is not its father, the other its
mother. But that there are two beings which, taken
separately, bear each the perfect relation of father or
mother, differing in no respect, to some one being —
of this no existing nature allows proof by any ex
ample.
Hence, both, that is, Father and Son, are not fa
ther and mother of the love emanating from them. It
Il8 ANSELM.
therefore is apparently most inconsistent with truth
that their identical love should be their son or off
spring.
CHAPTER LVI.
Only the Father begets and is unbegotten ; only the Son is begot
ten ; only love neither begotten nor unbegotten.
STILL, it is apparent that this love can neither be
said, in accordance with the usage of common speech,
to be unbegotten, nor can it so properly be said to be
begotten, as the Word is said to be begotten. For
we often say of a thing that it is begotten of that from
which it derives existence, as when we say that light
or heat is begotten of fire, or any effect of its cause.
On this ground, then, love, proceeding from the
supreme Spirit, cannot be declared to be wholly un
begotten, but it cannot so properly be said to be be
gotten as can the Word; since the Word is the most
true offspring and most true Son, while it is manifest
that love is by no means offspring or son.
He alone, therefore, may, or rather should, be
called begetter and unbegotten, whose is the Word ;
since he alone is Father and parent, and in no wise
derives existence from another ; and the Word alone
should be called begotten, which alone is Son and off
spring. But only the love of both is neither begotten
nor unbegotten, because it is neither son nor offspring,
and yet does in some sort derive existence from an
other.
MONOLOGIUM.
CHAPTER LVII.
This love is uncreated and creator, as are Father and Son ; and
yet it is with them not three, but one uncreated and creative
being. And it may be called the Spirit of Father and Son.
BUT, since this love separately is the supreme
Being, as are Father and Son, and yet at once Father
and Son, and the love of both are not more than one,
but one supreme Being, which alone was created by
none, and created ail things through no other than it
self; since this is true, necessarily, as the Father sep
arately, and the Son separately, are each uncreated
and creator, so, too, love separately is uncreated and
creator, and yet all three at once are not more than
one, but one uncreated and creative being.
None, therefore, makes or begets or creates the
Father, but the Father alone begets, but does not
create, the Son ; while Father and Son alike do not
create or beget, but somehow, if such an expression
may be used, breathe their love : for, although the su
premely immutable Being does not breathe after our
fashion, yet the truth that this Being sends forth this,
its love, which proceeds from it, not by departing
from it, but by deriving existence from it, can perhaps
be no better expressed than by saying that this Being
breathes its love.
But, if this expression is admissible, as the Word
of the supreme Being is its Son, so its love may fit
tingly enough be called its breath (Spiritus}. So that,
though it is itself essentially spirit, as are Father and
Son, they are not regarded as the spirits of anything,
since neither is the Father born of any other nor the
Son of the Father, as it were, by breathing', while
that love is regarded as the Breath or Spirit of both,
since from both breathing in their transcendent way
it mysteriously proceeds.
And this love, too, it seems, from the fact that
there is community of being between Father and Son,
may, not unreasonably, take, as it were its own, some
name which is common to Father and Son; if there
is any exigency demanding that it should have a name
proper to itself. And, indeed, if this love is actually
designated by the name Spirit, as by its own name,
since this name equally describes the Father and the
Son : it will be useful to this effect also, that through
this name it shall be signified that this love is iden
tical with Father and Son, although it has its being
from them.
CHAPTER LVIII.
As the Son is the essence or wisdom of the Father in the sense
that he has the same essence or wisdom that the Father has :
so likewise the Spirit is the essence and wisdom etc. of Father
and Son.
ALSO, just as the Son is the substance and wisdom
and virtue of the Father, in the sense that he has the
same essence and wisdom and virtue with the Father;
so it may be conceived that the Spirit of both is the
essence or wisdom or virtue of Father and Son, since
it has altogether the same essence, wisdom, and virtue
with these.
CHAPTER LIX.
The Father and the Son and their Spirit exist equally the one in
the other.
IT is a most interesting consideration that the Fa
ther, and the Son, and the Spirit of both, exist in one
MONOLOGIUM. 121
another with such equality that no one of them sur
passes another. For, not only is each in such a way
the perfectly supreme Being that, nevertheless, all
three at once exist only as one supreme Being, but
the same truth is no less capable of proof when each
is taken separately.
For the Father exists as a whole in the Son, and
in the Spirit common to them ; and the Son in the
Father, and in the Spirit ; and the Spirit in the Fa
ther, and in the Son ; for the memory of the supreme
Being exists, as a whole, in its intelligence and in its
love, and the intelligence in its memory and love, and
the love in its memory and intelligence. For the su
preme Spirit conceives of (intelligtt} its memory as a
whole, and loves it, and remembers its intelligence as
a whole, and loves it as a whole, and remembers its
love as a whole, and conceives of it as a whole.
But we mean by the memory, the Father; by the
intelligence, the Son ; by the love, the Spirit of both.
In such equality, therefore, do Father and Son and
Spirit embrace one another, and exist in one another,
that none of them can be proved to surpass another
or to exist without it.
CHAPTER LX.
To none of these is another necessary that he may remember, con
ceive, or love : since each taken by himself is memory and in
telligence and love and all that is necessarily inherent in the
supreme Being.
BUT, while this discussion engages our attention,
I think that this truth, which occurs to me as I re
flect, ought to be most carefully commended to mem
ory. The Father must be so conceived of as memory,
the Son as intelligence, and the Spirit as love, that it
122 ANSELM.
shall also be understood that the Father does not need
the Son, or the Spirit common to them, nor the Son
the Father, or the same Spirit, nor the Spirit the Fa
ther, or the Son : as if the Father were able, through
his own power, only to remember, but to conceive
only through the Son, and to love only through the
Spirit of himself and his son ; and the Son could only
conceive or understand (intelligere} through himself,
but remembered through the Father, and loved through
his Spirit ; and this Spirit were able through himself
alone only to love, while the Father remembers for
him, and the Son conceives or understands (intclligit}
for him.
For, since among these three each one taken sep
arately is so perfectly the supreme Being and the su
preme Wisdom that through himself he remembers
and conceives and loves, it must be that none of these
three needs another, in order either to remember or
to conceive or to love. For, each taken separately is
essentially memory and intelligence and love, and all
that is necessarily inherent in the supreme Being.
CHAPTER LXI.
Yet there are not three, but one Father and one Son and one Spirit.
AND here I see a question arises. For, if the Fa
ther is intelligence and love as well as memory, and
the Son is memory and love as well as intelligence,
and the Spirit is no less memory and intelligence
than love; how is it that the Father is not a Son and
a Spirit of some being? and why is not the Son the
Father and the Spirit of some being? and why is not
this Spirit the Father of some being, and the Son of
MONOLOGIUM. 123
some being? For it was understood, that the Father
was memory, the Son intelligence, and the Spirit love.
But this question is easily answered, if we consider
the truths already disclosed in our discussion. For
the Father, even though he is intelligence and love,
is not for that reason the Son or the Spirit of any
being; since he is not intelligence, begotten of any,
or love, proceeding from any, but whatever he is, he
is only the begetter, and is he from whom the other
proceeds.
The Son also, even though by his own power he
remembers and loves, is not, for that reason, the Fa
ther or the Spirit of any ; since he is not memory as
begetter, or love as proceeding from another after the
likeness of his Spirit, but whatever being he has he
is only begotten and is he from whom the Spirit pro
ceeds.
The Spirit, too, is not necessarily Father or Son,
because his own memory and intelligence are suffi
cient to him ; since he is not memory as begetter, or
intelligence as begotten, but he alone, whatever he is,
proceeds or emanates.
What, then, forbids the conclusion that in the su
preme Being there is only one Father, one Son, one
Spirit, and not three Fathers or Sons or Spirits?
CHAPTER LXII.
How it seems that of these three more sons than one are born.
BUT perhaps the following observation will prove
inconsistent with this assertion. It should not be
doubted that the Father and the Son and their Spirit
each expresses himself and the other two, just as each
conceives of, and understands, himself and the other
124 ANSELM.
two. But, if this is true, are there not in the supreme
Being as many words as there are expressive beings,
and as many words as there are beings who are ex
pressed?
For, if more men than one give expression to some
one object in thought, apparently there are as many
words corresponding to that object as there are think
ers ; since the word corresponding to it exists in the
thoughts of each separately. Again, if one man thinks
of more objects than one, there are as many words in
the mind of the thinker as there are objects thought of.
But in the thought of a man, when he thinks of
anything outside his own mind, the word correspond
ing to the object thought of is not born of the object
itself, since that is absent from the view of thought,
but of some likeness or image of the object which ex
ists in the memory of the thinker, or which is perhaps
called to mind through a corporeal sense from the
present object itself.
But in the supreme Being, Father and Son and
their Spirit are always so present to one another — for
each one, as we have already seen, exists in the others
no less than in himself — that, when they express one
another, the one that is expressed seems to beget his
own word, just as when he is expressed by himself.
How is it, then, that the Son and the Spirit of the
Son and of the Father beget nothing, if each begets
his own word, when he is expressed by himself or by
another? Apparently as many words as can be proved
to be born of the supreme Substance, so many Sons,
according to our former reasoning, must there be be
gotten of this substance, and so many spirits proceed
ing from it.
MONOLOGIUM. 125
CHAPTER LXIII.
How among them there is only one Son of one Father, that is, one
Word, and that from the Father alone.
ON these grounds, therefore, there apparently are
in that Being, not only many fathers and sons and
beings proceeding from it, but other necessary attri
butes as well j or else Father and Son and their Spirit,
of whom it is already certain that they truly exist, are
not three expressive beings, although each taken sep
arately is expressive, nor are there more beings than
one expressed, when each one expresses himself and
the other two.
For, just as it is an inherent property of the su
preme Wisdom to know and conceive, so it is as
suredly natural to eternal and immutable knowledge
and intelligence ever to regard as present what it
knows and conceives of. For, to such a supreme
Spirit expressing and beholding through conception,
as it were, are the same, just as the expression of our
human mind is nothing but the intuition of the thinker.
But reasons already considered have shown most
convincingly that whatever is essentially inherent in
the supreme Nature is perfectly consistent with the
nature of the Father and the Son and their Spirit
taken separately; and that, nevertheless, this, if at
tributed to the three at once, does not admit of plural
ity. Now, it is established that as knowledge and in
telligence are attributes of his being, so his knowing
and conceiving is nothing else than his expression,
that is, his ever beholding as present what he knows
and conceives of. Necessarily, therefore, just as the
Father separately, and the Son separately, and their
126 ANSELM.
Spirit separately, is a knowing and conceiving being,
and yet the three at once are not more knowing and
conceiving beings than one, but one knowing and one
conceiving being : so, each taken separately is expres
sive, and yet there are not three expressive beings at
once, but one expressive being.
Hence, this fact may also be clearly recognised,
that when these three are expressed, either by them
selves or by another, there are not more beings than
one expressed. For what is therein expressed except
their being? If, then, that Being is one and only one,
then what is expressed is one and only one; there
fore, if it is in them one and only one which expresses,
and one which is expressed — for it is one wisdom
which expresses and one substance which is expressed
— it follows that there are not more words than one,
but one alone. Hence, although each one expresses
himself and all express one another, nevertheless
there cannot be in the supreme Being another Word
than that already shown to be born of him whose is
the Word, so that it may be called his true image and
his Son.
And in this truth I find a strange and inexplicable
factor. For observe : although it is manifest that
each one, that is, Father and Son, and the Spirit of
Father and Son equally expresses himself and both
the others, and that there is one Word alone among
them ; yet it appears that this Word itself can in no
wise be called the Word of all three, but only of one.
For it has been proved that it is the image and
Son of him whose Word it is. And it is plain that it
cannot properly be called either the image or son of
itself, or of the Spirit proceeding from it. For, neither
of itself nor of a being proceeding from it, is it born,
MONOLOGIUM. 127
nor does it in its existence imitate itself or a being
proceeding from itself. For it does not imitate itself,
or take on a like existence to itself, because imitation
and likeness are impossible where only one being is
concerned, but require plurality of beings ; while it
does not imitate the spirit, nor does it exist in his
likeness, because it has not its existence from that
Spirit, but the Spirit from it. It is to be concluded
that this sole Word corresponds to him alone, from
whom it has existence by generation, and after whose
complete likeness it exists.
One Father, then, and not more than one Father;
one Son, and not more than one Son ; one Spirit pro
ceeding from them, and not more than one such Spirit,
exist in the supreme Being. And, although there are
three, so that the Father is never the Son or the Spirit
proceeding from them, nor the Son at any time the
Father or the Spirit, nor the Spirit of Father and Son
ever the Father or the Son ; and each separately is so
perfect that he is self-sufficient, needing neither of
the others ; yet what they are is in such a way one
that just as it cannot be attributed to them taken sep
arately as plural, so neither can it be attributed to
them as plural, when the three are taken at once. And
though each one expresses himself and all express
one another, yet there are not among them more
words than one, but one; and this Word corresponds
not to each separately, nor to all together, but to one
alone.
CHAPTER LXIV.
Though this truth is inexplicable, it demands belief.
IT seems to me that the mystery of so sublime a
subject transcends all the vision of the human intel
128 ANSELM.
lect. And for that reason I think it best to refrain
from the attempt to explain how this thing is. For it
is my opinion that one who is investigating an incom
prehensible object ought to be satisfied if his reason
ing shall have brought him far enough to recognise
that this object most certainly exists; nor ought as
sured belief to be the less readily given to these truths
which are declared to be such by cogent proofs, and
without the contradiction of any other reason, if, be
cause of the incomprehensibility of their own natural
sublimity, they do not admit of explanation.
But what is so incomprehensible, so ineffable, as
that which is above all things? Hence, if these truths,
which have thus far been debated in connection with
the supreme Being, have been declared on cogent
grounds, even though they cannot be so examined by
the human intellect as to be capable of explanation in
words, their assured certainty is not therefore shaken.
For, if a consideration, such as that above, rationally
comprehends that it is incomprehensible in what way
supreme Wisdom knows its creatures, of which we
necessarily know so many ; who shall explain how it
knows and expresses itself, of which nothing or
scarcely anything can be known by man? Hence, if
it is not by virtue of the self-expression of this Wis
dom that the Father begets and the Son is begotten,
•who shall tell his generation?
CHAPTER LXV.
How real truth may be reached in the discussion of an ineffable
subject.
BUT again, if such is the character of its ineffabil-
ity, — nay, since it is such,— how shall whatever con-
MONOLOG1UM. I2Q
elusion our discussion has reached regarding it in
terms of Father, Son, and emanating Spirit be valid?
For, if it has been explained on true grounds, how is
it ineffable? Or, if it is ineffable, how can it be such
as our discussion has shown? Or, could it be ex
plained to a certain extent, and therefore nothing
would disprove the truth of our argument ; but since
it could not be comprehended at all, for that reason
it would be ineffable?
But how shall we meet the truth that has already
been established in this very discussion, namely, that
the supreme Being is so above and beyond every
other nature that, whenever any statement is made
concerning it in words which are also applicable to
other natures, the sense of these words in this case is
by no means that in which they are applied to other
natures.
For what sense have I conceived of, in all these
words that I have thought of, except the common and
familiar sense? If, then, the familiar sense of words
is alien to that Being, whatever I have inferred to be
attributable to it is not its property. How, then, has
any truth concerning the supreme Being been discov
ered, if what has been discovered is so alien to that
Being? What is to be inferred?
Or, has there in some sort been some truth dis
covered regarding this incomprehensible object, and
in some sort has nothing been proved regarding it?
For often we speak of things which we do not express
with precision as they are; but by another expression
we indicate what we are unwilling or unable to ex
press with precision, as when we speak in riddles.
And often we see a thing, not precisely as it is in it
self, but through a likeness or image, as when we
130 ANSELM.
look upon a face in a mirror. And in this way, we
often express and yet do not express, see and yet do
not see, one and the same object ; we express and see
it through another ; we do not express it, and do not
see it by virtue of its own proper nature.
On these grounds, then, it appears that there is
nothing to disprove the truth of our discussion thus
far, concerning the supreme Nature, and yet this Na
ture itself remains not the less ineffable, if we believe
that it has never been expressed according to the pe
culiar nature of its own being, but somehow described
through another.
For whatever terms seem applicable to that Na
ture do not reveal it to me in its proper character,
but rather intimate it through some likeness. For,
when I think of the meanings of these terms, I more
naturally conceive in my mind of what I see in created
objects, than of what I conceive to transcend all hu
man understanding. For it is something much less,
nay, something far different, that their meaning sug
gests to my mind, than that the conception of which
my mind itself attempts to achieve through this shad
owy signification.
For, neither is the term wisdom sufficient to reveal
to me that Being, through which all things were cre
ated from nothing and are preserved from nothing
ness ; nor is the term essence capable of expressing to
me that Being which, through its unique elevation, is
far above all things, and through its peculiar natural
character greatly transcends all things.
In this way, then, is that Nature ineffable, because
it is incapable of description in words or by any other
means ; and, at the same time, an inference regarding
it, which can be reached by the instruction of reason
MONOLOGIUM. 13!
or in some other way, as it were in a riddle, is not
therefore necessarily false.
CHAPTER LXVI.
Through the rational mind is the nearest approach to the supreme
Being.
SINCE it is clear, then, that nothing can be ascer
tained concerning this Nature in terms of its own
peculiar character, but only in terms of something
else, it is certain that a nearer approach toward knowl
edge of it is made through that which approaches it
more nearly through likeness. For the more like to
it anything among created beings is proved to be, the
more excellent must that created being be by nature.
Hence, this being, through its greater likeness, assists
the investigating mind in the approach to supreme
Truth; and through its more excellent created es
sence, teaches the more correctly what opinion the
mind itself ought to form regarding the Creator. So,
undoubtedly, a greater knowledge of the creative Be
ing is attained, the more nearly the creature through
which the investigation is made approaches that Be
ing. For that every being, in so far as it exists, is
like the supreme Being, reasons already considered
do not permit us to doubt.
It is evident, then, that as the rational mind alone,
among all created beings, is capable of rising to the
investigation of this Being, so it is not the less this
same rational mind alone, through which the mind it- .
self can most successfully achieve the discovery of this
same Being. For it has already been acknowledged
that this approaches it most nearly, through likeness
of natural essence. What is more obvious, then, than
that the more earnestly the rational mind devotes it-
132 ANSELM.
self to learning its own nature, the more effectively
does it rise to the knowledge of that Being ; and the
more carelessly it contemplates itself, the farther does
it descend from the contemplation of that Being?
CHAPTER LXVII.
The mind itself is the mirror and image of that Being.
THEREFORE, the mind may most fitly be said to be
its own mirror wherein it contemplates, so to speak,
the image of what it cannot see face to face. For, if
the mind itself alone among all created beings is ca
pable of remembering and conceiving of and loving it
self, I do not see why it should be denied that it is
the true image of that being which, through its mem
ory and intelligence and love, is united in an ineffable
Trinity. Or, at any rate, it proves itself to be the
more truly the image of that Being by its power of re
membering, conceiving of, and loving, that Being.
For, the greater and the more like that Being it is,
the more truly it is recognised to be its image.
But, it is utterly inconceivable that any rational
creature can have been naturally endowed with any
power so excellent and so like the supreme Wisdom
as this power of remembering, and conceiving of, and
loving, the best and greatest of all beings. Hence,
no faculty has been bestowed on any creature that is
so truly the image of the Creator.
CHAPTER LXVIII.
The rational creature was created in order that it might love this
Being.
IT seems to follow, then, that the rational creature
ought to devote itself to nothing so earnestly as to the
MONOLOGIUM. 133
expression, through voluntary performance, of this
image which is impressed on it through a natural
potency. For, not only does it owe its very existence
to its creator ; but the fact that it is known to have
no power so important as that of remembering, and
conceiving of, and loving, the supreme good, proves
that it ought to wish nothing else so especially.
For who can deny that whatever within the scope
of one's power is better, ought to prevail with the
will? For, to the rational nature rationality is the
same with the ability to distinguish the just from the
not-just, the true from the not-true, the good from the
not-good, the greater good from the lesser ; but this
power is altogether useless to it, and superfluous, un
less what it distinguishes it loves or condemns, in ac
cordance with the judgment of true discernment.
From this, then, it seems clear enough that every
rational being exists for this purpose, that according
as, on the grounds of discernment, it judges a thing
to be more or less good, or not good, so it may love
that thing in greater or less degree, or reject it.
It is, therefore, most obvious that the rational crea
ture was created for this purpose, that it might love
the supreme Being above all other goods, as this Be
ing is itself the supreme good ; nay, that it might love
nothing except it, unless because of it; since that
Being is good through itself, and nothing else is good
except through it.
But the rational being cannot love this Being, un
less it has devoted itself to remembering and conceiv
ing of it. It is clear, then, that the rational creature
ought to devote its whole ability and will to remem
bering, and conceiving of, and loving, the supreme
134 ANSELM.
good, for which end it recognises that it has its very
existence.
CHAPTER LXIX.
The soul that ever loves this Essence lives at some time in true
blessedness.
BUT there is no doubt that the human soul is a
rational creature. Hence, it must have been created
for this end, that it might love the supreme Being. It
must, therefore, have been created either for this end,
that it might love that Being eternally ; or for this,
that at some time it might either voluntarily, or by
violence, lose this love.
But it is impious to suppose that the supreme
Wisdom created it for this end, that at some time,
either it should despise so great a good, or, though
wishing to keep it, should lose it by some violence.
We infer, then, that it was created for this end, that
it might love the supreme Being eternally. But this
it cannot do unless it lives forever. It was so created,
then, that it lives forever, if it forever wills to do that
for which it was created.
Hence, it is most incompatible with the nature of
the supremely good, supremely wise, and omnipotent
Creator, that what he has made to exist that it might
love him, he should make not to exist, so long as it
truly loves him ; and that what he voluntarily gave to
a non-loving being that it might ever love, he should
take away, or permit to be taken away, from the lov
ing being, so that necessarily it should not love ; es
pecially since it should by no means be doubted that
he himself loves every nature that loves him. Hence,
it is manifest that the human soul is never deprived
MONOLOGIUM. 135
of its life, if it forever devotes itself to loving the su
preme life.
How, then, shall it live? For is long life so im
portant a matter, if it is not secure from the invasion
of troubles? For whoever, while he lives, is either
through fear or through actual suffering subject to
troubles, or is deceived by a false security, does he
not live in misery? But, if any one lives in freedom
from these troubles, he lives in blessedness. But it
is most absurd to suppose that any nature that forever
loves him, who is supremely good and omnipotent,
forever lives in misery. So, it is plain, that the human
soul is of such a character that, if it diligently observes
that end for which it exists, it at some time lives in
blessedness, truly secure from death itself and from
every other trouble.
CHAPTER LXX.
This Being gives itself in return to the creature that loves it, that
that creature may be eternally blessed.
THEREFORE it cannot be made to appear true that
he who is most just and most powerful makes no re
turn to the being that loves him perseveringly, to
which although it neither existed nor loved him, he
gave existence that it might be able to be a loving be
ing. For, if he makes no return to the loving soul,
the most just does not distinguish between the soul
that loves, and the soul that despises what ought to
be supremely loved, nor does he love the soul that
loves him ; or else it does not avail to be loved by
him ; all of which suppositions are inconsistent with
his nature ; hence he does make a return to every
soul that perseveres in loving him.
136 ANSELM.
But what is this return? For, if he gave to what
was nothing, a rational being, that it might be a loving
soul, what shall he give to the loving soul, if it does
not cease to love? If what waits upon love is so great,
how great is the recompense given to love? And if
the sustainer of love is such as we declare, of what
character is the profit? For, if the rational creature,
which is useless to itself without this love, is with it
preeminent among all creatures, assuredly nothing
can be the reward of love except what is preeminent
among all natures.
For this same good, which demands such love
toward itself, also requires that it be desired by the
loving soul. For, who can love justice, truth, bless
edness, incorruptibility, in such a way as not to wish
to enjoy them? What return, then, shall the supreme
Goodness make to the being that loves and desires it,
except itself? For, whatever else it grants, it does
not give in return, since all such bestowals neither
compensate the love, nor console the loving being,
nor satisfy the soul that desires this supreme Being.
Or, if it wishes to be loved and desired, so as to I
make some other return than its love, it wishes to be)
loved and desired, not for its own sake, but for the
sake of another; and does not wish to be loved itself,
but wishes another to be loved ; which it is impious
to suppose.
So, it is most true that every rational soul, if, as it
should, it earnestly devotes itself through love to
longing for supreme blessedness, shall at some tirpe
receive that blessedness to enjoy, that what it now
sees as through a glass and in a riddle, it may then
see face to face. But it is most foolish to doubt
whether it enjoys that blessedness eternally; since,
MONOLOGIUM. 137
in the enjoyment of that blessedness, it will be im
possible to turn the soul aside by any fear, or to de
ceive it by false security; nor, having once experi
enced the need of that blessedness, will it be able not
to love it ; nor will that blessedness desert the soul
that loves it ; nor shall there be anything powerful
enough to separate them against their will. Hence,
the soul that has once begun to enjoy supreme Bless
edness will be eternally blessed.
CHAPTER LXXI.
The soul that despises this being will be eternally miserable.
FROM this it may be inferred, as a certain conse
quence, that the soul which despises the love of the
supreme good will incur eternal misery. It might be
said that it would be justly punished for such con
tempt if it lost existence or life, since it does not em
ploy itself to the end for which it was created. But
reason in no wise admits such a belief, namely, that
after such great guilt it is condemned to be what it
was before all its guilt.
For, before it existed, it could neither be guilty
nor feel a penalty. If, then, the soul despising that »
end for which it was created, dies so as to feel noth
ing, or so as to be nothing at all, its condition will be
the same when in the greatest guilt and when without
all guilt; and the supremely wise Justice will not dis
tinguish between what is capable of no good and wills
no evil, and what is capable of the greatest good and
wills the greatest evil.
But it is plain enough that this is a contradiction.
Therefore, nothing can be more logical, and nothing
ought to be believed more confidently than that the
138 ANSELM.
soul of man is so constituted that, if it scorns loving
the supreme Being, it suffers eternal misery; that just
as the loving soul shall rejoice in an eternal reward,
so the soul despising that Being shall suffer eternal
punishment; and as the former shall feel an immu
table sufficiency, so the latter shall feel an inconsol
able need.
CHAPTER LXXII.
Every human soul is immortal. And it is either forever miserable,
or at some time truly blessed.
BUT if the soul is mortal, of course the loving soul
is not eternally blessed, nor the soul that scorns this
Being eternally miserable. Whether, therefore, it
loves or scorns that for the love of which it was cre
ated, it must be immortal. But if there are some ra
tional souls which are to be judged as neither loving
nor scorning, such as the souls of infants seem to be,
what opinion shall be held regarding these? Are they
mortal or immortal? But undoubtedly all human
souls are of the same nature. Hence, since it is es
tablished that some are immortal, every human soul
must be immortal. But since every living being is
either never, or at some time, truly secure from all
trouble ; necessarily, also, every human soul is either
ever miserable, or at some time truly blessed.
CHAPTER LXXIII.
No soul is unjustly deprived of the supreme good, and every effort
must be directed toward that good.
BUT, which souls are unhesitatingly to be judged
as so loving that for the love of which they were cre
ated, that they deserve to enjoy it at some time, and
MONOLOGIUM. 139
which as so scorning it, that they deserve ever to
stand in need of it ; or how and on what ground
those which it seems impossible to call either loving
or scorning are assigned to either eternal blessedness
or misery, — of all this I think it certainly most diffi
cult or even impossible for any mortal to reach an
understanding through discussion. But that no being
is unjustly deprived by the supremely great and su
premely good Creator of that good for which it was
created, we ought most assuredly to believe. And
toward this good every man ought to strive, by loving
and desiring it with all his heart, and all his soul, and
all his rnind.
CHAPTER LXXIV.
The supreme Being is to be hoped for.
BUT the human soul will by no means be able to
train itself in this purpose, if it despairs of being able
to reach what it aims at. Hence, devotion to effort
is not more profitable to it than hope of attainment is
necessary.
CHAPTER LXXV.
We must believe in this Being, that is, by believing we must reach
out for it.
BUT what does not believe cannot love or hope.
It is, therefore, profitable to this human soul to be
lieve the supreme Being and those things without
which that Being cannot be loved, that, by believing,
the soul may reach out for it. And this truth can be
more briefly and fitly indicated, I think, if instead of
saying, "strive for" the supreme Being, we say, "be
lieve in" the supreme Being.
I4O ANSELM.
For, if one says that he believes in it, he appar
ently shows clearly enough both that, through the
faith which he professes, he strives for the supreme
Being, and that he believes those things which are
proper to this aim. For it seems that either he who
does not believe what is proper to striving for that
Being, or he who does not strive for that Being,
through what he believes, does not believe in it. And,
perhaps, it is indifferent whether we say, "believe in
it," or "direct belief to it," just as by believing to
strive for it and toward it are the same, except that
whoever shall have come to it by striving for (tendendo
in) it, will not remain without, but within it. And
this is indicated more distinctly and familiarly if we
say, "striving for" (in) it, than if we say, "toward"
(ad) it.
On this ground, therefore, I think it may more fitly
be said that we should believe in it, than that we
should direct belief to it.
CHAPTER LXXVI.
We should believe in Father and Son and in their Spirit equally,
and in each separately, and in the three at once.
WE should believe, then, equally in the Father
and in the Son and in their Spirit, and in each sepa
rately, and in the three at once, since the Father sep
arately, and the Son separately, and their Spirit sep
arately is the supreme Being, and at once Father and
Son with their Spirit are one and the same supreme
Being, in which alone every man ought to believe;
because it is the sole end which in every thought and
act he ought to strive for. Hence, it is manifest that
as none is able to strive for that Being, except he be-
MONOLOGIUM. 14!
lieve in it ; so to believe it avails none, except he
strive for it.
CHAPTER LXXVII.
What is living, and what dead faith.
HENCE, with however great confidence so impor
tant a truth is believed, the faith will be useless and,
as it were, dead, unless it is strong and living through
love. For, that the faith which is accompanied by ,
sufficient love is by no means idle, if an opportunity
of operation offers, but rather exercises itself in an
abundance of works, as it could not do without love,
may be proved from this fact alone, that, since it loves
the supreme Justice, it can scorn nothing that is just,
it can approve nothing that is unjust. Therefore, see
ing that the fact of its operation shows that life, with
out which it could not operate, is inherent in it ; it is
not absurd to say that operative faith is alive, because
it has the life of love without which it could not ope
rate ; and that idle faith is not living, because it lacks
that life of love, with which it would not be idle.
Hence, if not only he who has lost his sight is
called blind, but also he who ought to have sight and
has it not, why cannot, in like manner, faith "without
love be called dead; not because it has lost its life,
that is, love ; but because it has not the life which it
ought always to have? As that faith, then, which
operates through love is recognised as living, so that
which is idle, through contempt, is proved to be dead.
It may, therefore, be said with sufficient fitness that
living faith believes in that in which we ought to be
lieve ; while dead faith merely believes that which
ought to be believed.
142 ANSELM.
CHAPTER LXXVIII.
The supreme Being may in some sort be called Three.
AND so it is evidently expedient for every man to
believe in a certain ineffable trinal unity, and in one
Trinity ; one and a unity because of its one essence,
but trinal and a trinity because of its three — what?
For, although I can speak of a Trinity because of
Father and Son and the Spirit of both, who are three;
yet I cannot, in one word, show why they are three;
as if I should call this Being a Trinity because of its
three persons, just as I would call it a unity because
of its one substance.
For three persons are not to be supposed, because
all persons which are more than one so subsist sepa
rately from one another, that there must be as many
substances as there are persons, a fact that is recog
nised in the case of more men than one, when there
are as many persons as there are individual substances.
Hence, in the supreme Being, just as there are not
more substances than one, so there are not more per
sons than one.
So, if one wishes to express to any why they are
three, he will say that they are Father and Son and
the Spirit of both, unless perchance, compelled by the
lack of a precisely appropriate term, he shall choose
some one of those terms which cannot be applied in
a plural sense to the supreme Being, in order to in
dicate what cannot be expressed in any fitting lan
guage; as if he should say, for instance, that this
wonderful Trinity is one essence or nature, and three
persons or substances.
MONOLOGIUM. 143
For, these two terms are more appropriately chosen
to describe plurality in the supreme Being, because
the word person is applied only to an individual, ra
tional nature; and the word substance is ordinarily
applied to individual beings, which especially subsist
in plurality. For individual beings are especially ex
posed to, that is, are subject to, accidents, and for this
reason they more properly receive the name sub-stance.
Now, it is already manifest that the supreme Being,
which is subject to no accidents, cannot properly be
called a substance, except as the word substance is
used in the same sense with the word Essence. Hence,
on this ground, namely, of necessity, that supreme
and one Trinity or trinal unity may justly be called
one Essence and three Persons or three Substances.
CHAPTER LXXIX.
This Essence itself is God, who alone is lord and ruler of all.
IT appears, then — nay, it is unhesitatingly declared
that what is called God is not nothing ; and that to
this supreme Essence the name God is properly given.
For every one who says that a God exists, whether
one or more than one, conceives of him only as of
some substance which he believes to be above every
nature that is not God, and that he is to be wor
shipped of men because of his preeminent majesty,
and to be appeased for man's own sake because of
some imminent necessity.
But what should be so worshipped in accordance
with its majesty, and what should be so appeased in
behalf of any object, as the supremely good and su
premely powerful Spirit, who is Lord of all and who
rules all? For, as it is established that through the
144 ANSELM.
supreme Good and its supremely wise omnipotence
all things were created and live, it is most inconsist
ent to suppose that the Spirit himself does riot rule
the beings created by him, or that beings he created
are governed by another less powerful or less good,
or by no reason at all, but by the confused flow of
events alone. For it is he alone through whom it is
well with every creature, and without whom it is well
with none, and from whom, and through whom, and in
whom, are all things.
Therefore, since he himself alone is not only the
beneficent Creator, but the most powerful lord, and
most wise ruler of all; it is clear that it is he alone
whom every other nature, according to its whole abil
ity, ought to worship in love, and to love in worship ;
from whom all happiness is to be hoped for; with
whom refuge from adversity is to be sought ; to whom
supplication for all things is to be offered. Truly,
therefore, he is not only God, but the only God, in
effably Three and One.
APPENDIX.
IN BEHALF OF THE FOOL.
AN ANSWER TO THE ARGUMENT OF ANSELM IN THE PROSLOGIUM.
BY GAUNILON, A MONK OF MARMOUTIER.
ng)
be
i. IF one doubts or denies the existence of a being
of such a nature that nothing greater than it can
conceived, he receives this answer :
The existence of this being is proved, in the first
place, by the fact that he himself, in his doubt or de
nial regarding this being, already has it in his under
standing; for in hearing it spoken of he understands
what is spoken of. It is proved, therefore, by the
fact that what he understands must exist not only in
his understanding, but in reality also.
And the proof of this is as follows. — It is a greater
thing to exist both in the understanding and in reality
than to be in the understanding alone. And if this
being is in the understanding alone, whatever has
even in the past existed in reality will be greater than
this being. And so that which was greater than all
beings will be less than some being, and will not be
greater than all : which is a manifest contradiction.
And hence, that which is greater than all, already
proved to be in the understanding, must exist not
only in the understanding, but also in reality : for
otherwise it will not be greater than all other beings.
146 ANSELM.
2. The fool might make this reply :
This being is said to be in my understanding
already, only because I understand what is said. Now
could it not with equal justice be said that I have in
my understanding all manner of unreal objects, hav
ing absolutely no existence in themselves, because I
understand these things if one speaks of them, what
ever they may be?
Unless indeed it is shown that this being is of such
a character that it cannot be held in concept like all
unreal objects, or objects whose existence is uncertain:
and hence I am not able to conceive of it when I hear
of it, or to hold it in concept; but I must understand
it and have it in my understanding; because, it seems,
I cannot conceive of it in any other way than by under
standing it, that is, by comprehending in my knowl
edge its existence in reality.
But if this is the case, in the first place there will
be no distinction between what has precedence in
time — namely, the having of an object in the under
standing — and what is subsequent in time — namely,
the understanding that an object exists ; as in the ex
ample of the picture, which exists first in the mind of
the painter, and afterwards in his work.
Moreover, the following assertion can hardly be
accepted : that this being, when it is spoken of and
heard of, cannot be conceived not to exist in the way
in which even God can be conceived not to exist. For
if this is impossible, what was the object of this argu
ment against one who doubts or denies the existence
of such a being?
Finally, that"this being so exists that it cannot be
perceived by an understanding convinced of its own
indubitable existence, unless this being is afterwards
APPENDIX. 147
conceived of — this should be proved to me by an in
disputable argument, but not by that which you have
advanced : namely, that what I understand, when I j
hear it, already is in my understanding. For thus in
my understanding, as I still think, could be all sorts
of things whose existence is uncertain, or which do \
not exist at all, if some one whose words I should un
derstand mentioned them. And so much the more if
I should be deceived, as often happens, and believe
in them : though I do not yet believe in the being
whose existence you would prove.
3. Hence, your example of the painter who already
has in his understanding what he is to paint cannot
agree with this argument. For the picture, before it
is made, is contained in the artificer's art itself; and
any such thing, existing in the art of an artificer, is
nothing but a part of his understanding itself. A
joiner, St. Augustine says, when he is about to make
a box in fact, first has it in his art. The box which is
made in fact is not life; but the box which exists in
his art is life. For the artificer's soul lives, in which
all these things are, before they are produced. Why,
then, are these things life in the living soul of the arti
ficer, unless because they are nothing else than the
knowledge or understanding of the soul itself?
With the exception, however, of those facts which \
are known to pertain to the mental nature, whatever,
on being heard and thought out by the understand
ing, is perceived to be real, undoubtedly that real ob
ject is one thing, and the understanding itself, by
which the object is grasped, is another. Hence, even
if it were 'true that there is a being than which a
greater is inconceivable : yet to this being, when
148 ANSELM.
heard of and understood, the not yet created picture 1
in the mind of the painter is not analogous.
4. Let us notice also the point touched on above,
with regard to this being which is greater than all
which can be conceived, and which, it is said, can be
none other than God himself. I, so far as actual
knowledge of the object, either from its specific or
general character, is concerned, am as little able to
conceive of this being when I hear of it, or to have it
in my understanding, as I am to conceive of or under
stand God himself: whom, indeed, for this very rea
son I can conceive not to exist. For I do not know
that reality itself which God is, nor can I form a con
jecture of that reality from some other like reality./
For you yourself assert that that reality is such that!
there can be nothing else like it.
For, suppose that I should hear something said of ^
a man absolutely unknown to me, of whose very ex
istence I was unaware. Through that special or gen
eral knowledge by which I know what man is, or what
men are, I could conceive of him also, according to
the reality itself, which man is. And yet it would bej
possible, if the person who told me of him deceived
me, that the man himself, of whom I conceived, did
not exist ; since that reality according to which I con
ceived of him, though a no less indisputable fact, was
not that man, but any man.
Hence, I am not able, in the way in which I should
have this unreal being in concept or in understand
ing, to have that being of which you speak in concept
or in understanding, when I hear the word God or the
words, a being greater than all other beings. For I can
conceive of the man according to a fact that is real
and familiar to me : but of God, or a being greater
APPENDIX.
149
than all others, I could not conceive at all, except!
merely according to the word. And an object can]
hardly or never be conceived according to the word\
alone.
For when it is so conceived, it is not so much the
word itself (which is, indeed, a real thing — that is,
the sound of the letters and syllables) as the signifi
cation of the word, when heard, that is conceived.
But it is not conceived as by one who knows what is
generally signified by the word ; by whom, that is, it
is conceived according to a reality and in true con
ception alone. It is conceived as by a man who does
not know the object, and conceives of it only in ac
cordance with the movement of his mind produced by
hearing the word, the mind attempting to image for
itself the signification of the word that is heard. And
it would be surprising if in the reality of fact it could
ever attain to this.
Thus, it appears, and in no other way, this being
is also in my understanding, when I hear and under
stand a person who says that there is a being greater
than all conceivable beings. So much for the asser
tion that this supreme nature already is in my under
standing.
5. But that this being must exist, not only in the
understanding but also in reality, is thus proved to me :
If it did not so exist, whatever exists in reality
would be greater than it. And so the being which
has been already proved to exist in my understand
ing, will not be greater than all other beings.
I still answer: if it should be said that a being
which cannot be even conceived in terms of any fact,
is in the understanding, I do not deny that this being
is, accordingly, in my understanding. But since
I5O ANSELM.
through this fact it can in no wise attain to real exist
ence also, I do not yet concede to it that existence at
all, until some certain proof of it shall be given.
For he who says that this being exists, because
otherwise the being which is greater than all will not
be greater than all, does not attend strictly enough to
what he is saying. For I do not yet say, no, I even
deny or doubt that this being is greater than any real
object. Nor do I concede to it any other existence
than this (if it should be called existence) which it
has when the mind, according to a word merely heard,
tries to form the image of an object absolutely un
known to it.
How, then, is the veritable existence of that being
proved to me from the assumption, by hypothesis,
that it is greater than all other beings? For I should
still deny this, or doubt your demonstration of it, to
this extent, that I should not admit that this being is
in my understanding and concept even in the way in
which many objects whose real existence is uncertain
and doubtful, are in my understanding and concept.
For it should be proved first that this being itself
really exists somewhere ; and then, from the fact that
it is greater than all, we shall not hesitate to infer
that it also subsists in itself.
6. For example : it is said that somewhere in the
ocean is an island, which, because of the difficulty,
or rather the impossibility, of discovering what does
not exist, is called the lost island. And they say that
this island has an inestimable wealth of all manner of
riches and delicacies in greater abundance than is told
of the Islands of the Blest ; and that having no owner
or inhabitant, it is more excellent than all other coun-
APPENDIX. 151
tries, which are inhabited by mankind, in the abun
dance with which it is stored.
Now if some one should tell me that there is such
an island, I should easily understand his words, in
which there is no difficulty. But suppose that he went
on to say, as if by a logical inference: "You can no
longer doubt that this island which is more excellent
than all lands exists somewhere, since, you have no
doubt that it is in your understanding. And since it
is more excellent not to be in the understanding alone,
but to exist both in the understanding and in reality,
for this reason it must exist. For if it does not exist,
any land which really exists will be more excellent
than it ; and so the island already understood by you
to be more excellent will not be more excellent."
If a man should try to prove to me by such rea
soning that this island truly exists, and that its exist
ence should no longer be doubted, either I should be
lieve that he was jesting, or I know not which I ought
to regard as the greater fool : myself, supposing that
I should allow this proof; or him, if he should sup
pose that he had established with any certainty the
existence of this island. For he ought to show first
that the hypothetical excellence of this island exists
as a real and indubitable fact, and in no wise as any
unreal object, or one whose existence is uncertain, in
my understanding.
7. This, in the mean time, is the answer the fool
could make to the arguments urged against him.
When he is assured in the first place that this being
is so great that its non-existence is not even conceiv
able, and that this in turn is proved on no other ground
than the fact that otherwise it will not be greater than
152 ANSELM.
all things, the fool may make the same answer, and
say:
When did I say that any such being exists in real
ity, that is, a being greater than all others ? — that on
this ground it should be proved to me that it also ex
ists in reality to such a degree that it cannot even be
conceived not to exist? Whereas in the first place it
should be in some way proved that a nature which is
higher, that is, greater and better, than all other na
tures, exists ; in order that from this we may then be
able to prove all attributes which necessarily the be
ing that is greater and better than all possesses.
Moreover, it is said that the non-existence of this
being is inconceivable. It might better be said, per
haps, that its non-existence, or the possibility of its
non-existence, is unintelligible. For according to the
true meaning of the word, unreal objects are unin
telligible. Yet their existence is conceivable in the
way in which the fool conceived of the non-existence
of God. I am most certainly aware of my own exist
ence ; but I know, nevertheless, that my non-existence
is possible. As to that supreme being, moreover,
which God is, I understand without any doubt both
his existence, and the impossibility of his non-exist
ence. Whether, however, so long as I am most posi
tively aware of my existence, I can conceive of my
non-existence, I am not sure. But if I can, why can
I not conceive of the non-existence of whatever else I
know with the same certainty? If, however, I can
not, God will not be the only being of which it can be
said, it is impossible to conceive of his non-existence.
8. The other parts of this book are argued with
such truth, such brilliancy, such grandeur ; and are
so replete with usefulness, so fragrant with a certain
APPENDIX. 153
perfume of devout and holy feeling, that though there
are matters in the beginning which, however rightly
sensed, are weakly presented, the rest of the work
should not be rejected on this account. The rather
ought these earlier matters to be reasoned more co
gently, and the whole to be received with great re
spect and honor.
ANSELM'S APOLOGETIC.
IN REPLY TO GAUNILON'S ANSWER IN BEHALF OF THE FOOL.
IT was a fool against whom the argument of my
Proslogium was directed. Seeing, however, that the
author of these objections is by no means a fool, and
is a Catholic, speaking in behalf of the fool, I think
it sufficient that I answer the Catholic.
CHAPTER I.
A general refutation of Gaunilon's argument. It is shown that a
being than which a greater cannot be conceived exists in
reality.
You say — whosoever you may be, who say that a
fool is capable of making these statements — that a
being than which a greater cannot be conceived is not
in the understanding in any other sense than that in
which a being that is altogether inconceivable in terms
of reality, is in the understanding. You say that the
inference that this being exists in reality, from the
fact that it is in the understanding, is no more just
than the inference that a lost island most certainly ex
ists, from the fact that when it is described the hearer
does not doubt that it is in his understanding.
154 ANSELM.
But I say : if a being than which a greater is in
conceivable is not understood or conceived, and is
not in the understanding or in concept, certainly either
God is not a being than which a greater is inconceiv
able, or else he is not understood or conceived, and is
not in the understanding or in concept. But I call
on your faith and conscience to attest that this is most
false. Hence, that than which a greater cannot be
conceived is truly understood and conceived, and is
in the understanding and in concept. Therefore either
the grounds on which you try to controvert me are
not true, or else the inference which you think to base
logically on those grounds is not justified.
But you hold, moreover, that supposing that a be
ing than which a greater cannot be conceived is un
derstood, it does not follow that this being is in the
understanding ; nor, if it is in the understanding, does
it therefore exist in reality.
In answer to this, I maintain positively: if that
being can be even conceived to be, it must exist in
reality. For that than which a greater is inconceiv
able cannot be conceived except as without beginning.
But whatever can be conceived to exist, and does not
exist, can be conceived to exist through a beginning.
Hence what can be conceived to exist, but does not
exist, is not the being than which a greater cannot be
conceived. Therefore, if such a being can be con
ceived to exist, necessarily it does exist.
Furthermore : if it can be conceived at all, it must
exist. For no one who denies or doubts the existence
of a being than which a greater is inconceivable, de
nies or doubts that if it did exist, its non-existence,
either in reality or in the understanding, would be
impossible. For otherwise it would not be a being
APPENDIX. 155
than which a greater cannot be conceived. But as to
whatever can be conceived, but does not exist — if
there were such a being, its non-existence, either in
reality or in the understanding, would be possible.
Therefore if a being than which a greater is incon
ceivable can be even conceived, it cannot be non
existent.
But let us suppose that it does not exist, even if it
can be conceived. Whatever can be conceived, but
does not exist, if it existed, would not be a being than
which a greater is inconceivable. If, then, there were
a being a greater than which is inconceivable, it would
not be a being than which a greater is inconceivable:
which is most absurd. Hence, it is false to deny that
a being than which a greater cannot be conceived ex
ists, if it can be even conceived; much the more,
therefore, if it can be understood or can be in the un
derstanding.
Moreover, I will venture to make this assertion :
without doubt, whatever at any place or at any time
does not exist — even if it does exist at some place or
at some time — can be conceived to exist nowhere and
never, as at some place and at some time it does not
exist. For what did not exist yesterday, and exists
to-day, as it is understood not to have existed yester
day, so it can be apprehended by the intelligence that
it never exists. And what is not here, and is else
where, can be conceived to be nowhere, just as it is
not here. So with regard to an object of which the
individual parts do not exist at the same places or
times: all its parts and therefore its very whole can
be conceived to exist nowhere or never.
For, although time is said to exist always, and the
world everywhere, yet time does not as a whole exist
156 ANSELM.
always, nor the world as a whole everywhere. And
as individual parts of time do not exist when others
exist, so they can be conceived never to exist. And
so it can be apprehended by the intelligence that in
dividual parts of the world exist nowhere, as they do
not exist where other parts exist. Moreover, what is
composed of parts can be dissolved in concept, and
be non-existent. Therefore, whatever at any place or
at any time does not exist as a whole, even if it is ex
istent, can be conceived not to exist.
But that than which a greater cannot be conceived,
if it exists, cannot be conceived not to exist. Other
wise, it is not a being than which a greater cannot be
conceived : which is inconsistent. By no means, then,
does it at any place or at any time fail to exist as a
whole : but it exists as a whole everywhere and al
ways.
Do you believe that this being can in some way be
conceived or understood, or that the being with re
gard to which these things are understood can be in
concept or in the understanding? For if it cannot,
these things cannot be understood with reference to
it. But if you say that it is not understood and that
it is not in the understanding, because it is not thor
oughly understood ; you should say that a man who
cannot face the direct rays of the sun does not see
the light of day, which is none other than the sun
light. Assuredly a being than which a greater cannot
be conceived exists, and is in the understanding, at
least to this extent — that these statements regarding
it are understood.
APPENDIX. 157
CHAPTER II.
The argument is continued. It is shown that a being than which
a greater is inconceivable can be conceived, and also, in so
far, exists.
I HAVE said, then, in the argument which you dis
pute, that when the fool hears mentioned a being than
which a greater is inconceivable, he understands what
he hears. Certainly a man who does not understand
when a familiar language is spoken, has no under
standing at all, or a very dull one. Moreover, I have
said that if this being is understood, it is in the under
standing. Is that in no understanding which has been
proved necessarily to exist in the reality of fact?
But you will say that although it is in the under
standing, it does not follow that it is understood. But
observe that the fact of its being understood does ne
cessitate its being in the understanding. For as what
is conceived, is conceived by conception, and what is
conceived by conception, as it is conceived, so is in
conception ; so what is understood, is understood by
understanding, and what is understood by understand
ing, as it is understood, so is in the understanding.
What can be more clear than this?
After this, I have said that if it is even in the un
derstanding alone, it can be conceived also to exist in
reality, which is greater. If, then, it is in the under
standing alone, obviously the very being than which
a greater cannot be conceived is one than which a
greater can be conceived. What is more logical? For
if it exists even in the understanding alone, can it not
be conceived also to exist in reality? And if it can
be so conceived, does not he who conceives of this
conceive of a thing greater than that being, if it exists
158 ANSELM.
in the understanding alone? What more consistent
inference, then, can be made than this : that if a be
ing than which a greater cannot be conceived is in
the understanding alone, it is not that than which a
greater cannot be conceived?
But, assuredly, in no understanding is a being
than which a greater is conceivable a being than
which a greater is inconceivable. Does it not follow,
then, that if a being than which a greater cannot be
conceived is in any understanding, it does not exist
in the understanding alone? For if it is in the under
standing alone, it is a being than which a greater can
be conceived, which is inconsistent with the hypoth
esis.
CHAPTER in.
A criticism of Gaunilon's example, in which he tries to show that
in this way the real existence of a lost island might be inferred
from the fact of its being conceived.
BUT, you say, it is as if one should suppose an
island in the ocean, which surpasses all lands in its
fertility, and which, because of the difficulty, or rather
the impossibility, of discovering what does not exist,
is called a lost island ; and should say that there can
be no doubt that this island truly exists in reality, for
this reason, that one who hears it described easily
understands what he hears.
Now I promise confidently that if any man shall
devise anything existing either in reality or in concept
alone (except that than which a greater cannot be
conceived) to which he can adapt the sequence of my
reasoning, I will discover that thing, and will give
him his lost island, not to be lost again.
But it now appears that this being than which a
greater is inconceivable cannot be conceived not to
APPENDIX. 159
be, because it exists on so assured a ground of truth;
for otherwise it would not exist at all.
Hence, if any one says that he conceives this be
ing not to exist, I say that at the time when he con
ceives of this either he conceives of a being than
which a greater is inconceivable, or he does not con
ceive at all. If he does not conceive, he does not
conceive of the non-existence of that of which he does
not conceive. But if he does conceive, he certainly con
ceives of a being which cannot be even conceived not
to exist. For if it could be conceived not to exist, it
could be conceived to have a beginning and an end.
But this is impossible.
He, then, who conceives of this being conceives
of a being which cannot be even conceived not to ex
ist; but he who conceives of this being does not con
ceive that it does not exist ; else he conceives what is
inconceivable. The non-existence, then, of that than
which a greater cannot be conceived is inconceivable.
CHAPTER IV.
The difference between the possibility of conceiving of non-exist
ence, and understanding non-existence.
You say, moreover, that whereas I assert that this
supreme being cannot be conceived not to exist, it
might better be said that its non-existence, or even
the possibility of its non-existence, cannot be under
stood.
But it was more proper to say, it cannot be con
ceived. For if I had said that the object itself cannot
be understood not to exist, possibly you yourself, who
say that in accordance with the true meaning of the
term what is unreal cannot be understood, would offer
the objection that nothing which is can be under-
l6o ANSELM.
stood not to be, for the non-existence of what exists
is unreal : hence God would not be the only being of
which it could be said, it is impossible to understand
its non-existence. For thus one of those beings which
most certainly exist can be understood not to exist in
the same way in which certain other real objects can
be understood not to exist.
But this objection, assuredly, cannot be urged
against the term conception, if one considers the mat
ter well. For although no objects which exist can be
understood not to exist, yet all objects, except that
which exists in the highest degree, can be conceived
not to exist. For all those objects, and those alone,
can be conceived not to exist, which have a beginning
or end or composition of parts : also, as I have already
said, whatever at any place or at any time does not
exist as a whole.
That being alone, on the other hand, cannot be
conceived not to exist, in which any conception dis
covers neither beginning nor end nor composition of
parts, and which any conception finds always and
everywhere as a whole.
Be assured, then, that you can conceive of your
own non-existence, although you are most certain that
you exist. I am surprised that you should have ad
mitted that you are ignorant of this. For we conceive
of the non-existence of many objects which we know
to exist, and of the existence of many which we know
not to exist ; not by forming the opinion that they so
exist, but by imagining that they exist as we conceive
of them.
And indeed, we can conceive of the non-existence
of an object, although we know it to exist, because at
the same time we can conceive of the former and
APPENDIX. l6l
know the latter. And we cannot conceive of the non-
existence of an object, so long as we know it to exist,
because we cannot conceive at the same time of exist
ence and non-existence.
If, then, one will thus distinguish these two senses
of this statement, he will understand that nothing, so
long as it is known to exist, can be conceived not to
exist; and that whatever exists, except that being
than which a greater cannot be conceived, can be
conceived not to exist, even when it is known to exist.
So, then, of God alone it can be said that it is im
possible to conceive of his non-existence ; and yet
many objects, so long as they exist, in one sense can
not be conceived not to exist. But in what sense God
is to be conceived not to exist, I think has been shown
clearly enough in my book.
CHAPTER V.
A particular discussion of certain statements of Gaunilon's. In
the first place, he misquoted the argument which he undertook
to refute.
THE nature of the other objections which you, in
behalf of the fool, urge against me it is easy, even for
a man of small wisdom, to detect ; and I had therefore
thought it unnecessary to show this. But since I hear
that some readers of these objections think they have
some weight against me, I will discuss them briefly.
In the first place, you often repeat that I assert
that what is greater than all other beings is in the un
derstanding ; and if it is in the understanding, it ex
ists also in reality, for otherwise the being which is
greater than all would not be greater than all.
Nowhere in all my writings is such a demonstra
tion found. For the real existence of a being which
162
ANSELM.
is said to be greater than all other beings cannot be
demonstrated in the same way with the real existence
of one that is said to be a being than which a greater
cannot be conceived.
If it should be said that a being than which a
greater cannot be conceived has no real existence, or
that it is possible that it does not exist, or even that
it can be conceived not to exist, such an assertion can
be easily refuted. For the non-existence of what does
not exist is possible, and that whose non-existence is
possible can be conceived not to exist. But whatever
can be conceived not to exist, if it exists, is not a be
ing than which a greater cannot be conceived; but if
it does not exist, it would not, even if it existed, be a
being than which a greater cannot be conceived. But
it cannot be said that a being than which a greater is
inconceivable, if it exists, is not a being than which a
greater is inconceivable ; or that if it existed, it would
not be a being than which a greater is inconceivable.
It is evident, then, that neither is it non-existent,
nor is it possible that it does not exist, nor can it be
conceived not to exist. For otherwise, if it exists, it
is not that which it is said to be in the hypothesis;
and if it existed, it would not be what it is said to be
in the hypothesis.
But this, it appears, cannot be so easily proved of
a being which is said to be greater than all other be
ings. For it is not so evident that what can be con
ceived not to exist is not greater than all existing be
ings, as it is evident that it is not a being than which
a greater cannot be conceived. Nor is it so indubit
able that if a being greater than all other beings ex
ists, it is no other than the being than which a greater
cannot be conceived ; or that if it were such a being,
APPENDIX. 163
some other might not be this being in like manner ;
as it is certain with regard to a being which is hypo-
thetically posited as one than which a greater cannot
be conceived.
For consider : if one should say that there is a be
ing greater than all other beings, and that this being
can nevertheless be conceived not to exist; and that
a being greater than this, although it does not exist,
can be conceived to exist : can it be so clearly inferred
in this case that this being is therefore not a being
greater than all other existing beings, as it would be
most positively affirmed in the other case, that the
being under discussion is not, therefore, a being than
which a greater cannot be conceived?
For the former conclusion requires another pre
mise than the predication, greater than all other beings.
In my argument, on the other hand, there is no need
of any other than this very predication, a being than
which a greater cannot be conceived.
If the same proof cannot be applied when the be
ing in question is predicated to be greater than all
others, which can be applied when it is predicated to
be a being than which a greater cannot be conceived,
you have unjustly censured me for saying what I did
not say ; since such a predication differs so greatly
from that which I actually made. If, on the other
hand, the other argument is valid, you ought not to
blame me so for having said what can be proved.
Whether this can be proved, however, he will
easily decide who recognises that this being than
which a greater cannot be conceived is demonstrable.
For by no means can this being than which a greater
cannot be conceived be understood as any other than
that which alone is greater than all. Hence, just as
164 ANSELM.
that than which a greater cannot be conceived is un
derstood, and is in the understanding, and for that
reason is asserted to exist in the reality of fact : so
what is said to be greater than all other beings is un
derstood and is in the understanding, and therefore it
is necessarily inferred that it exists in reality.
You see, then, with how much justice you have
compared me with your fool, who, on the sole ground
that he understands what is described to him, would
affirm that a lost island exists.
CHAPTER VI.
A discussion of Gaunilon's argument in his second chapter : that
any unreal beings can be understood in the same way, and
would, to that extent, exist.
ANOTHER of your objections is that any unreal be
ings, or beings whose existence is uncertain, can be
understood and be in the understanding in the same
way with that being which I discussed. I am sur
prised that you should have conceived this objection,
for I was attempting to prove what was still uncer
tain, and contented myself at first with showing that
this being is understood in any way, and is in the un
derstanding. It was my intention to consider, on
these grounds, whether this being is in the under
standing alone, like an unreal object, or whether it
also exists in fact, as a real being. For if unreal ob
jects, or objects whose existence is uncertain, in this
way are understood and are in the understanding, be
cause, when they are spoken of, the hearer under
stands what the speaker means, there is no reason
why that being of which I spoke should not be under
stood and be in the understanding.
How, moreover, can these two statements of yours
APPENDIX. 165
be reconciled : (i) the assertion that if a man should
speak of any unreal objects, whatever they might be,
you would understand, and (2) the assertion that on
hearing of that being which does exist, and not in
that way in which even unreal objects are held in
concept, you would not say that you conceive of it or
have it in concept ; since, as you say, you cannot
conceive of it in any other way than by understanding
it, that is, by comprehending in your knowledge its
real existence?
How, I ask, can these two things be reconciled :
that unreal objects are understood, and that under
standing an object is comprehending in knowledge
its real existence? The contradiction does not con
cern me : do you see to it. But if unreal objects are
also in some sort understood, and your definition is
applicable, not to every understanding, but to a cer
tain sort of understanding, I ought not to be blamed
for saying that a being than which a greater cannot
be conceived is understood and is in the understand
ing, even before I reached the certain conclusion that
this being exists in reality.
CHAPTER VII.
In answer to another objection : that the supremely great being
may be conceived not to exist, just as by the fool God is con
ceived not to exist.
AGAIN, you say that it can probably never be be
lieved that this being, when it is spoken of and heard
of, cannot be conceived not to exist in the same way
in which even God may be conceived not to exist.
Such an objection could be answered by those who
have attained but little skill in disputation and argu
ment. For is it compatible with reason for a man to
1 66 ANSELM.
deny the existence of what he understands, because
it is said to be that being whose existence he denies
because he does not understand it? Or, if at some
times its existence is denied, because only to a certain
extent is it understood, and that which is not at all
understood is the same to him : is not what is still
undetermined more easily proved of a being which
exists in some understanding than of one which exists
is no understanding?
Hence it cannot be credible that any man denies
the existence of a being than which a greater cannot
be conceived, which, when he hears of it, he under
stands in a certain degree: it is incredible, I say, that
any man denies the existence of this being because he
denies the existence of God, the sensory perception
of whom he in no wise conceives of.
Or if the existence of another object, because it is
not at all understood, is denied, yet is not the exist
ence of what is understood in some degree more easily
proved than the existence of an object which is in no
wise understood?
Not irrationally, then, has the hypothesis of a be
ing a greater than which cannot be conceived been
employed in controverting the fool, for the proof of
the existence of God : since in some degree he would
understand such a being, but in no wise could he un
derstand God.
CHAPTER VIII.
The example of the picture, treated in Gaunilon's third chapter,
is examined. — From what source a notion may be formed of
the supremely great being, of which Gaunilon inquired in his
fourth chapter.
MOREOVER, your so careful demonstration that the
being than which a greater cannot be conceived is
APPENDIX. 167
not analogous to the not yet executed picture in the
understanding of the painter, is quite unnecessary.
It was not for this purpose that I suggested the pre
conceived picture. I had no thought of asserting that
the being which I was discussing is of such a nature;
but I wished to show that what is not understood to
exist can be in the understanding.
Again, you say that when you hear of a being than
which a greater is inconceivable, you cannot conceive
of it in terms of any real object known to you either
specifically or generally, nor have it in your under
standing. For, you say, you neither know such a be
ing in itself, nor can you form an idea of it from any
thing like it.
But obviously this is not true. For everything
that is less good, in so far as it is good, is like the
greater good. It is therefore evident to any rational
mind, that by ascending from the lesser good to the
greater, we can form a considerable notion of a being
than which a greater is inconceivable.
For instance, who (even if he does not believe
that what he conceives of exists in reality) supposing
that there is some good which has a beginning and an
end, does not conceive that a good is much better,
which, if it begins, does not cease to be? And that
as the second good is better than the first, so that
good which has neither beginning nor end, though it
is ever passing from the past through the present to
the future, is better than the second? And that far
better than this is a being — whether any being of such
a nature exists or not — which in no wise requires
change or motion, nor is compelled to undergo change
or motion?
Is this inconceivable, or is some being greater
1 68 ANSELM.
than this conceivable? Or is not this to form a notion
from objects than which a greater is conceivable, of
the being than which a greater cannot be conceived?
There is, then, a means of forming a notion of a being
than which a greater is inconceivable.
So easily, then, can the fool who does not accept
sacred authority be refuted, if he denies that a notion
may be formed from other objects of a being than
which a greater is inconceivable. But if any Catholic
would deny this, let him remember that the invisible
things of God, from the creation of the world, are
clearly seen, being understood by the things that are
made, even his eternal power and Godhead. (Romans
i. 20.)
CHAPTER IX.
The possibility of understanding and conceiving of the supremely
great being. The argument advanced against the fool is con
firmed.
BUT even if it were true that a being than which a
greater is inconceivable cannot be conceived or under
stood ; yet it would not be untrue that a being than
which a greater cannot be conceived is conceivable
and intelligible. There is nothing to prevent one's
saying ineffable, although what is said to be ineffable
cannot be spoken of. Inconceivable is conceivable,
although that to which the word inconceivable can be
applied is not conceivable. So, when one says, that
than which nothing greater is conceivable, undoubtedly
what is heard is conceivable and intelligible, although
that being itself, than which a greater is inconceiv
able, cannot be conceived or understood.
Or, though there is a man so foolish as to say that
there is no being than which a greater is inconceiv
able, he will not be so shameless as to say that he
APPENDIX. 169
cannot understand or conceive of what he says. Or,
if such a man is found, not only ought his words to
be rejected, but he himself should be contemned.
Whoever, then, denies the existence of a being
than which a greater cannot be conceived, at least
understands and conceives of the denial which he
makes. But this denial he cannot understand or con
ceive of without its component terms ; and a term of
this statement is a being than which a greater cannot be
conceived. Whoever, then, makes this denial, under
stands and conceives of that than which a greater is
inconceivable.
Moreover, it is evident that in the same way it is
possible to conceive of and understand a being whose
non-existence is impossible ; but he who conceives of
this conceives of a greater being than one whose non-
existence is possible. Hence, when a being than
which a greater is inconceivable is conceived, if it is
a being whose non-existence is possible that is con
ceived, it is not a being than which a greater cannot
be conceived. But an object cannot be at once con
ceived and not conceived. Hence he who conceives
of a being than which a greater is inconceivable, does
not conceive of that whose non-existence is possible,
but of that whose non-existence is impossible. There
fore, what he conceives of must exist; for anything
whose non-existence is possible, is not that of which
he conceives.
CHAPTER X.
The certainty of the foregoing argument. — The conclusion of the
book.
I BELIEVE that I have shown by an argument which
is not weak, but sufficiently cogent, that in my former
I7O ANSELM.
book I proved the real existence of a being than which
a greater cannot be conceived ; and I believe that this
argument cannot be invalidated by the validity of any
objection. For so great force does the signification
of this reasoning contain in itself, that this being
which is the subject of discussion, is of necessity,
from the very fact that it is understood or conceived,
proved also to exist in reality, and to be whatever we
should believe of the divine substance.
For we attribute to the divine substance anything
of which it can be conceived that it is better to be
than not to be that thing. For example : it is better
to be eternal than not eternal; good, than not good;
nay, goodness itself, than not goodness itself. But it
cannot be that anything of this nature is not a prop
erty of the being than which a greater is inconceiv
able. Hence, the being than which a greater is in
conceivable must be whatever should be attributed to
the divine essence.
I thank you for your kindness both in your blame
and in your praise for my book. For since you have
commended so generously those parts of it which
seem to you worthy of acceptance, it is quite evident
that you have criticised in no unkind spirit those
parts of it which seemed to you weak.
CUR DEUS HOMO.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CUR DEUS HOMO.
BOOK FIRST.
PAGE
Preface 177
I. The question on which the whole work rests 178
II. How those things which are to be said should be re
ceived 179
III. Objections of infidels and replies of believers 182
IV. How these things appear not decisive to infidels, and
merely like so many pictures 183
V. How the redemption of man could not be effected by
any other being but God , 184
VI. How infidels find fault with us for saying that God has
redeemed us by his death, etc 185
VII. How the devil had no justice on his side against man. . 187
VIII. How, although the acts of Christ's condescension which
we speak of do not be.long to his divinity, it yet seems
improper to infidels that these things should be said
of him even as a man, etc igo
IX. How it was of his own accord that he died 192
X. On the same topics 197
XI. What it is to sin, and to make satisfaction for sin 201
XII. Whether it were proper for God to put away sins by
compassion alone, without any payment of debt 203
XIII. How nothing less was to be endured, in the order of
things, than that the creature should take away the
honor due the Creator, etc 206
XIV. How the honor of God exists in the punishment of the
wicked 207
XV. Whether God suffers his honor to be violated even in
the least degree 208
174 TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
XVI. The reason why the number of angels who fell must
be made up from men 210
XVII. How other angels cannot take the place of those who
fell 211
XVIII. Whether there will be more holy men than evil an
gels 212
XIX. How man cannot be saved without satisfaction for sin 222
XX. That satisfaction ought to be proportionate to guilt. . . 225
XXI. How great a burden sin is 228
XXII. What contempt man brought upon God when he
allowed himself to be conquered by the devil 230
XXIII. What man took from God by his sin 231
XXIV. How, as long as man does not restore what he owes
God, he cannot be happy 233
XXV. How man's salvation by Christ is necessarily possible 237
BOOK SECOND.
I. How man was made holy by God, so as to be happy
in the enjoyment of God 239
II. How man would never have died, unless he had
sinned 241
III. How man will rise with the same body which he has
in this world 241
IV. How God will complete, in respect to human nature,
what he has begun 242
V. How, although the thing may be necessary, God may
not do it by a compulsory necessity 242
VI. How no being, except the God-man, can make the
atonement by which man is saved 244
VII. How necessary it is for the same being to be perfect
God and perfect man 245
VIII. How it behooved God to take a man of the race of
Adam, and born of a woman 247
XIX. How of necessity the Word only can unite in one per
son with man 250
X. How this man dies not of debt ; and in what sense he
can or cannot sin 251
XI. How Christ dies of his own power 255
XII. How, though he share in our weakness, he is not
therefore miserable 259
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 175
PAGE
XIII. How, along with our other weaknesses, he does not
partake of our ignorance 260
XIV. How his death outweighs the number and greatness
of our sins 261
XV. How his death removes even the sins of his murderers 263
XVI. How God took that man from a sinful substance, and
yet without sin; and of the salvation of Adam and
Eve 265
XVII. How he did not die of necessity though he could not
be born, except as destined to suffer death 269
XVIIIa. How with God there is neither necessity nor impos
sibility 273
XVII16. How Christ's life is paid to God for the sins of men 279
XIX. How human salvation follows upon his death 283
XX. How great and how just is God's compassion 286
XXI. How it is impossible for the devil to be reconciled. . 286
XXII. How the truth of the Old and New Testament is
shown in the things which have been said 287
ANSELM'S CUR DEUS HOMO.
PREFACE.
THE first part of this book was copied without my
knowledge, before the work had been completed and
revised. I have therefore been obliged to finish it as
best I could, more hurriedly, and so more briefly,
than I wished. For had an undisturbed and adequate
period been allowed me for publishing it, I should
have introduced and subjoined many things about
which I have been silent. For it was while suffering
under great anguish of heart (the origin and reason of
which are known to God), that, at the entreaty of
others, I began the book in England, and finished it
when an exile in Capua. From the theme on which
it was published I have called it Cur Dcus Homo, and
have divided it into two short books. The first con
tains the objections of infidels, who despise the Chris
tian faith because they deem it contrary to reason;
and also the reply of believers ; and, in fine, leaving
Christ out of view (as if nothing had ever been known
of him), it proves, by absolute reasons, the impossi
bility that any man should be saved without him.
Again, in the second book, likewise, as if nothing
were known of Christ, it is moreover shown by plain
reasoning and fact that human nature was ordained
for this purpose, viz., that every man should enjoy a
happy immortality, both in body and in soul ; and
178 ANSELM.
that it was necessary that this design for which man
was made should be fulfilled ; but that it could not
be fulfilled unless God became man, and unless all
things were to take place which we hold with regard
to Christ. I request all who may wish to copy this
book to prefix this brief preface, with the heads of
the whole work, at its commencement; so that, into
whosesoever hands it may fall, as he looks on the face
of it, there may be nothing in the whole body of the
work which shall escape his notice.
BOOK FIRST.
CHAPTER I.
The question on which the whole work rests.
I HAVE been often and most earnestly requested by
many, both personally and by letter, that I would
hand down in writing the proofs of a certain doctrine
of our faith, which I am accustomed to give to inquir
ers ; for they say that these proofs gratify them, and
are considered sufficient. This they ask, not for the
sake of attaining to faith by means of reason, but that
they may be gladdened by understanding and medi
tating on those things which they believe ; and that,
as far as possible, they may be always ready to con
vince any one who demands of them a reason of that
hope which is in us. And this question, both infidels
are accustomed to bring up against us, ridiculing
Christian simplicity as absurd ; and many believers
ponder it in their hearts ; for what cause or necessity,
in sooth, God became man, and by his own death, as
we believe and affirm, restored life to the world ; when
CUR DEUS HOMO. 179
he might have done this, by means of some other be
ing, angelic or human, or merely by his will. Not
only the learned, but also many unlearned persons
interest themselves in this inquiry and seek for its
solution. Therefore, since many desire to consider
this subject, and, though it seem very difficult in the
investigation, it is yet plain to all in the solution, and
attractive for the value and beauty of the reasoning ;
although what ought to be sufficient has been said by
the holy fathers and their successors, yet I will take
pains to disclose to inquirers what God has seen fit to
lay open to me. And since investigations, which are
carried on by question and answer, are thus made
more plain to many, and especially to less quick
minds, and on that account are more gratifying, I will
take to argue with me one of those persons who agi
tate this subject ; one, who among the rest impels me
more earnestly to it, so that in this way Boso may
question and Anselm reply.
CHAPTER II.
How those things which are to be said should be received.
Boso. As the right order requires us to believe the
deep things of Christian faith before we undertake to
discuss them by reason ; so to my mind it appears a
neglect if, after we are established in the faith, we do
not seek to understand what we believe. Therefore,
since I thus consider myself to hold the faith of our
redemption, by the prevenient grace of God, so that,
even were I unable in any way to understand what I
believe, still nothing could shake my constancy; I
desire that you should discover to me, what, as you
know, many besides myself ask, for what necessity
l8o ANSELM.
and cause God, who is omnipotent, should have as
sumed the littleness and weakness of human nature
for the sake of its renewal?
Anselm. You ask of me a thing which is above me,
and therefore I tremble to take in hand subjects too
lofty for me, lest, when some one may have thought
or even seen that I do not satisfy him, he will rather
believe that I am in error with regard to the substance
of the truth, than that my intellect is not able to
grasp it.
Boso. You ought not so much to fear this, because
you should call to mind, on the other hand, that it
often happens in the discussion of some question that
God opens what before lay concealed ; and that you
should hope for the grace of God, because if you lib
erally impart those things which you have freely re
ceived, you will be worthy to receive higher things to
which you have not yet attained.
Anselm. There is also another thing on account of
which I think this subject can hardly, or not at all,
be discussed between us comprehensively ; since, for
this purpose, there is required a knowledge of Power
and Necessity and Will and certain other subjects
which are so related to one another that none of them
can be fully examined without the rest; and so the
discussion of these topics requires a separate labor,
which, though not very easy, in my opinion, is by no
means useless ; for ignorance of these subjects makes
certain things difficult, which by acquaintance with
them become easy.
Boso. You can speak so briefly with regard to
these things, each in its place, that we may both have
all that is requisite for the present object, and what
remains to be said we can put off to another time.
CUR DEUS HOMO. l8l
Anselm. This also much disinclines me from your
request, not only that the subject is important, but as
it is of a form fair above the sons of men, so is it of a
wisdom fair above the intellect of men. On this ac
count, I fear, lest, as I am wont to be incensed against
sorry artists, when I see our Lord himself painted in
an unseemly figure ; so also it may fall out with me if
I should undertake to exhibit so rich a theme in rough
and vulgar diction.
Boso. Even this ought not to deter you, because,
as you allow any one to talk better if he can, so you
preclude none from writing more elegantly if your
language does not please him. But, to cut you off
from all excuses, you are not to fulfil this request of
mine for the learned but for me, and those asking the
same thing with me.
Anselm. Since I observe your earnestness and that
of those who desire this thing with you, out of love
and pious zeal, I will try to the best of my ability
(with the assistance of God and your prayers, which,
when making this request, you have often promised
me), not so much to make plain what you inquire
about, as to inquire with you. But I wish all that I
say to be received with this understanding, that, if I
shall have said anything which higher authority does
not corroborate, though I appear to demonstrate it
by argument, yet it is not to be received with any fur
ther confidence, than as so appearing to me for the
time, until God in some way make a clearer revelation
to me. But if I am in any measure able to set your
inquiry at rest, it should be concluded that a wiser
than I will be able to do this more fully ; nay, we
must understand that for all that a man can say or
182 ANSELM.
know still deeper grounds of so great a truth lie con
cealed.
Boso. Suffer me, therefore, to make use of the
words of infidels ; for it is proper for us when we seek
to investigate the reasonableness of our faith to pro
pose the objections of those who are wholly unwilling
to submit to the same faith, without the support of
reason. For although they appeal to reason because
they do not believe, but we, on the other hand, be
cause we do believe; nevertheless, the thing sought
is one and the same. And if you bring up anything
in reply which sacred authority seems to oppose, let
it be mine to urge this inconsistency until you dis
prove it.
Anselm. Speak on according to your pleasure.
CHAPTER III.
Objections of infidels and replies of believers.
Boso. Infidels ridiculing our simplicity charge upon
us that we do injustice and dishonor to God when we
affirm that he descended into the womb of a virgin,
that he was born of woman, that he grew on the nour
ishment of milk and the food of men ; and, passing
over many other things which seem incompatible with
Deity, that he endured fatigue, hunger, thirst, stripes
and crucifixion among thieves.
Anselm. We do no injustice or dishonor to God,
but give him thanks with all the heart, praising and
proclaiming the ineffable height of his compassion.
For the more astonishing a thing it is and beyond ex
pectation, that he has restored us from so great and
deserved ills in which we were, to so great and un
merited blessings which we had forfeited ; by so much
CUR DEUS HOMO. 183
the more has he shown his more exceeding love and
tenderness towards us. For did they but carefully
consider how fitly in this way human redemption is
secured, they would not ridicule our simplicity, but
would rather join with us in praising the wise benefi
cence of God. For, as death came upon the human
race by the disobedience of man, it was fitting that by
man's obedienceJife should be restored. And, as sin,
the cause of our condemnation, had its origin from a
woman, so ought the author of our righteousness and
salvation to be born of a woman. And so also was it
proper that the devil, who, being man's tempter, had
conquered him in eating of the tree, should be van
quished by man in the suffering of the tree which man
bore. Many other things also, if we carefully examine
them, give a certain indescribable beauty to our re
demption as thus procured.
CHAPTER IV.
How these things appear not decisive to infidels, and merely like
so many pictures.
Boso. These things must be admitted to be beauti
ful, and like so many pictures ; but, if they have no
solid foundation, they do not appear sufficient to in
fidels, as reasons why we ought to believe that God
wished to suffer the things which we speak of. For
when one wishes to make a picture, he selects some
thing substantial to paint it upon, so that his picture
may remain. For no one paints in water or in air,
because no traces of the picture remain in them.
Wherefore, when we hold up to infidels these harmo
nious proportions which you speak of as so many pic
tures of the real thing, since they do not think this
184 ANSELM.
belief of ours a reality, but only a fiction, they con
sider us, as it were, to be painting upon a cloud.
Therefore the rational existence of the truth must
first be shown, I mean, the necessity, which proves
that God ought to or could have condescended to
those things which we affirm. Afterwards, to make
the body of the truth, so to speak, shine forth more
clearly, these harmonious proportions, like pictures
of the body, must be described.
Anselm. Does not the reason why God ought to do
the things we speak of seem absolute enough when
we consider that the human race, that work of his so
very precious, was wholly ruined, and that it was not
seemly that the purpose which God had made con
cerning man should fall to the ground ; and, more
over, that this purpose could not be carried into effect
unless the human race were delivered by their Creator
himself?
CHAPTER V.
How the redemption of man could not be effected by any other
being but God.
Boso. If this deliverance were said to be effected
somehow by any other being than God (whether it
were an angelic or a human being), the mind of man
would receive it far more patiently. For God could
have made some man without sin, not of a sinful sub
stance, and not a descendant of any man, but just as
he made Adam, and by this man it should seem that
the work we speak of could have been done.
Anselm. Do you not perceive that, if any other be
ing should rescue man from eternal death, man would
rightly be adjudged as the servant of that being? Now
if this be so, he would in no wise be restored to that
CUR DEUS HOMO. 185
dignity which would have been his had he never
sinned. For he, who was to be through eternity only
the servant of God and an equal with the holy angels,
would now be the servant of a being who was not
God, and whom the angels did not serve.
CHAPTER VI.
How infidels find fault with us for saying that God has redeemed
us by his death, and thus has shown his love towards us, and
that he came to overcome the devil for us.
Boso. This they greatly wonder at, because we call
this redemption a release. For, say they, in what
custody or imprisonment, or under whose power were
you held, that God could not free you from it, with
out purchasing your redemption by so many suffer
ings, and finally by his own blood ? And when we tell
them that he freed us from our sins, and from his
own wrath, and from hell, and from the power of the
devil, whom he came to vanquish for us, because we
were unable to do it, and that he purchased for us the
kingdom of heaven ; and that, by doing all these
things, he manifested the greatness of his love towards
us; they answer: If you say that God, who, as you
believe, created the universe by a word, could not do
all these things by a simple command, you contradict
yourselves, for you make him powerless. Or, if you
grant that he could have done these things in some
other way, but did not wish to, how can you vindicate
his wisdom, when you assert that he desired, without
any reason, to suffer things so unbecoming? For
these things which you bring up are all regulated by
his will; for the wrath of God is nothing but his de
sire to punish. If, then, he does not desire to punish
1 86
the sins of men, man is free from his sins, and from
the wrath of God, and from hell, and from the power
of the devil, all which things are the sufferings of sin;
and, what he had lost by reason of these sins, he now
regains. For, in whose power is hell, or the devil?
Or, whose is the kingdom of heaven, if it be not his
who created all things? Whatever things, therefore,
you dread or hope for, all lie subject to his will, whom
nothing can oppose. If, then, God were unwilling to
save the human race in any other way than that you
mention, when he could have done it by his simple
will, observe, to say the least, how you disparage his
wisdom. For, if a man without motive should do, by
severe toil, a thing which he could have done in some
easy way, no one would consider him a wise man. As
to your statement that God has shown in this way
how much he loved you, there is no argument to sup
port this, unless it be proved that he could not other
wise have saved man. For, if he could not have done
it otherwise, then it was, indeed, necessary for him to
manifest his love in this way. But now, when he
could have saved man differently, why. is it that, for
the sake of displaying his love, he does and suffers
the things which you enumerate? For does he not
show good angels how much he loves them, though
he suffer no such things as these for them? As to
what you say of his coming to vanquish the devil for
you, with what meaning dare you allege this? Is not
the omnipotence of God everywhere enthroned? How
is it, then, that God must needs come down from
heaven to vanquish the devil? These are the objec
tions with which infidels think they can withstand us.
CUR DEUS HOMO. 187
CHAPTER VII.
How the devil had no justice on his side against man ; and why it
was, that he seemed to have had it, and why God could have
freed man in this way.
MOREOVER, I do not see the force of that argument,
which we are wont to make use of, that God, in order
to save men, was bound, as it were, to try a contest
with the devil in justice, before he did in strength, so
that, when the devil should put to death that being in
whom there was nothing worthy of death, and who
was God, he should justly lose his power over sin
ners ; and that, if it were not so, God would have
used undue force against the devil, since the devil
had a rightful ownership of man, for the devil had
not seized man with violence, but man had freely sur
rendered to him. It is true that this might well
enough be said, if the devil or man belonged to any
other being than God, or were in the power of any
but God. But since neither the devil nor man belong
to any but God, and neither can exist without the ex
ertion of Divine power, what cause ought God to try
with his own creature (de suo, in suo}, or what should
he do but punish his servant, who had seduced his
fellow-servant to desert their common Lord and come
over to himself; who, a traitor, had taken to himself
a fugitive ; a thief, had taken to himself a fellow-thief,
with what he had stolen from his Lord. For when
one was stolen from his Lord by the persuasions of
the other, both were thieves. For what could be more
just than for God to do this? Or, should God, the
judge of all, snatch man, thus held, out of the power
of him who holds him so unrighteously, either for the
l88 ANSELM.
purpose of punishing him in some other way than
by means of the devil, or of sparing him, what in
justice would there be in this? For, though man
deserved to be tormented by the devil, yet the devil
tormented him unjustly. For man merited punish
ment, and there was no more suitable way for him
to be punished than by that being to whom he had
given his consent to sin. But the infliction of pun
ishment was nothing meritorious in the devil ; on the
other hand, he was even more unrighteous in this, be
cause he was not led to it by a love of justice, but
urged on by a malicious impulse. For he did not do
this at the command of God, but God's inconceivable
wisdom, which happily controls even wickedness, per
mitted it. And, in my opinion, those who think that
the devil has any right in holding man, are brought
to this belief by seeing that man is justly exposed to
the tormenting of the devil, and that God in justice
permits this; and therefore they suppose that the
devil rightly inflicts it. For the very same thing, from
opposite points of view, is sometimes both just and
unjust, and hence, by those who do not carefully in
spect the matter, is deemed wholly just or wholly un
just. Suppose, for example, that one strikes an inno
cent person unjustly, and hence justly deserves to be
beaten himself ; if, however, the one who was beaten,
though he ought not to avenge himself, yet does strike
the person who beat him, then he does it unjustly.
And hence this violence on the part of the man who
returns the blow is unjust, because he ought not to
avenge himself; but as far as he who received the
blow is concerned, it is just, for since he gave a blow
unjustly, he justly deserves to receive one in return.
Therefore, from opposite views, the same action is
CUR DEUS HOMO. 189
both just and unjust, for it may chance that one per
son shall consider it only just, and another only un
just. So also the devil is said to torment men justly,
because God in justice permits this, and man in jus
tice suffers it. But when man is said to suffer justly,
it is not meant that his just suffering is inflicted by
the hand of justice itself, but that he is punished by
the just judgment of God. But if that written decree
is brought up, which the Apostle says was made
against us, and cancelled by the death of Christ ; and
if any one thinks that it was intended by this decree
that the devil, as if under the writing of a sort of com
pact, should justly demand sin and the punishment of
sin, of man, before Christ suffered, as a debt for the
first sin to which he tempted man, so that in this way
he seems to prove his right over man, I do not by any
means think that it is to be so understood. For that
writing is not of the devil, because it is called the
writing of a decree of the devil, but of God. For by
the just judgment of God it was decreed, and, as it
were, confirmed by writing, that, since man had
sinned, he should not henceforth of himself have the
power to avoid sin or the punishment of sin ; for the
spirit is out-going and not returning (est enim spiritus
vadcns et non rediens}\ and he who sins ought not to
escape with impunity, unless pity spare the sinner,
and deliver and restore him. Wherefore we ought
not to believe that, on account of this writing, there
can be found any justice on the part of the devil in
his tormenting man. In fine, as there is never any
injustice in a good angel, so in an evil angel there can
be no justice at all. There was no reason, therefore,
as respects the devil, why God should not make use of
his own power against him for the liberation of man.
CHAPTER VIII.
How, although the acts of Christ's condescension which we speak
of do not belong to his divinity, it yet seems improper to in
fidels that these things should be said of him even as a man ;
and why it appears to them that this man did not suffer death
of his own will.
Anseltn. The will of God ought to be a sufficient
reason for us, when he does anything, though we can
not see why he does it. For the will of God is never
irrational.
Boso. That is very true, if it be granted that God
does wish the thing in question ; but many will never
allow that God does wish anything if it be inconsist
ent with reason.
Anselm. What do you find inconsistent with rea
son, in our confessing that God desired those things
which make up our belief with regard to his incarna
tion?
Boso. This in brief : that the Most High should
stoop to things so lowly, that the Almighty should do
a thing with such toil.
Anselm. They who speak thus do not understand
our belief. For we affirm that the Divine nature is
beyond doubt impassible, and that God cannot at all
be brought down from his exaltation, nor toil in any
thing which he wishes to effect. But we say that the
Lord Jesus Christ is very God and very man, one per
son in two natures, and two natures in one person.
When, therefore, we speak of God as enduring any
humiliation or infirmity, we do not refer to the majesty
of that nature, which cannot suffer; but to the feeble
ness of the human constitution which he assumed.
CUR DEUS HOMO. IQI
And so there remains no ground of objection against
our faith. For in this way we intend no debasement
of the Divine nature, but we teach that one person is
both Divine and human. In the incarnation of God
there is no lowering of the Deity; but the nature of
man we believe to be exalted.
•Boso. Be it so ; let nothing be referred to the Di
vine nature, which is spoken of Christ after the man
ner of human weakness ; but how will it ever be made
out a just or reasonable thing that God should treat
or suffer to be treated in such a manner, that man
whom the Father called his beloved Son in whom he
was well pleased, and whom the Son made himself?
For what justice is there in his suffering death for the
sinner, who was the most just of all men? What man,
if he condemned the innocent to free the guilty, would
not himself be judged worthy of condemnation? And
so the matter seems to return to the same incongruity
which is mentioned above. For if he could not save
sinners in any other way than by condemning the just,
where is his omnipotence? If, however, he could,
but did not wish to, how shall we sustain his wisdom
and justice ?
Anselm. God the Father did not treat that man
as you seem to suppose, nor put to death the innocent
for the guilty. For .the Father did not compel him to
suffer death, or even allow him to be slain, against
his will, but of his own accord he endured death for
the salvation of men.
Boso. Though it were not against his will, since
he agreed to the will of the Father; yet the Father
seems to have bound him, as it were, by his injunc
tion. For it is said that Christ "humbled himself,
being made obedient to the Father even unto death,
and that the death of the cross. For which cause
God also hath highly exalted him;" and that "he
learned obedience from the things which he suffered ;"
and that God spared not his own Son, but gave him
up for us all." And likewise the Son says: "I came
not to do my own will, but the will of him that sent
me." And when about to suffer, he says; "As the
Father hath given me commandment, so I do." Again:
"The cup which the Father hath given me, shall I
not drink it? " And, at another time : "Father, if it
be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless,
not as I will, but as thou wilt." And again: "Father,
if this cup may not pass from me except I drink it,
thy will be done." In all these passages it would
rather appear that Christ endured death by the con
straint of obedience, than by the inclination of his
own free will.
CHAPTER IX.
How it was of his own accord that he died, and what this means :
" he was made obedient even unto death ; " and : "for which
cause God hath highly exalted him;" and: " I came not to
do my own will ; " and : " he spared not his own Son ; " and :
" not as I will, but as thou wilt."
Anselm. It seems to me that you do not rightly
understand the difference between what he did at the
demand of obedience, and what he suffered, not de
manded by obedience, but inflicted on him, because
he kept his obedience perfect.
Boso. I need to have you explain it more clearly.
Anselm. Why did the Jews persecute him even
unto death?
Boso. For nothing else, but that, in word and in
life, he invariably maintained truth and justice.
CUR DEUS HOMO. 193
Ansclm. I believe that God demands this of every
rational being, and every being owes this in obedience
to God.
Boso. We ought to acknowledge this.
Anselm. That man, therefore, owed this obedience
to God the Father, humanity to Deity; and the Fa
ther claimed it from him.
Boso. There is no doubt of this.
Anselm. Now you see what he did, under the de
mand of obedience.
Boso. Very true, and I see also what infliction he
endured, because he stood firm in obedience. For
death was inflicted on him for his perseverance in
obedience and he endured it; but I do not under
stand how it is that obedience did not demand this.
Anselm. Ought man to surfer death, if he had never
sinned, or should God demand this of him?
Boso. It is on this account that we believe that
man would not have been subject to death, and that
God would not have exacted this of him ; but I should
like to hear the reason of the thing from you.
Anselm. You acknowledge that the intelligent crea
ture was made holy, and for this purpose, viz., to be
happy in the enjoyment of God.
Boso. Yes.
Anselm. You surely will not think it proper for
God to make his creature miserable without fault,
when he had created him holy that he might enjoy a
state of blessedness. For it would be a miserable
thing for man to die against his will.
Boso. It is plain that, if man had not sinned, God
ought not to compel him to die.
Anselm. God did not, therefore, compel Christ to
die; but he suffered death of his own will, not yield-
194 ANSELM.
ing up his life as an act of obedience, but on account
of his obedience in maintaining holiness; for he held
out so firmly in this obedience that he met death on
account of it. It may, indeed be said, that the Fa
ther commanded him to die, when he enjoined that
upon him on account of which he met death. It was
in this sense, then, that "as the Father gave him the
commandment, so he did, and the cup which He gave
to him, he drank ; and he was made obedient to the
Father, even unto death ; " and thus "he learned obe
dience from the things which he suffered," that is,
how far obedience should be maintained. Now the
word "didicit," which is used, can be understood in
two ways. For either "didicit" is written for this:
he caused others to learn; or it is used, because he
did learn by experience what he had an understanding
of before. Again, when the Apostle had said: "he
humbled himself, being made obedient even unto
death, and that the death of the cross," he added:
"wherefore God also hath exalted him and given him
a name, which is above every name." And this is
similar to what David said : "he drank of the brook
in the way, therefore did he lift up the head." For it
is not meant that he could not have attained his ex
altation in any other way but by obedience unto
death; nor is it meant that his exaltation was con
ferred on him, only as a reward of his obedience (for
he himself said before he suffered, that all things had
been committed to him by the Father, and that all
things belonging to the Father were his); but the ex
pression is used because he had agreed with the Fa
ther and the Holy Spirit, that there was no other way
to reveal to the world the height of his omnipotence,
than by his death. For if a thing do not take place,
CUR DEUS HOMO. IQ5
except on condition of something else, it is not im
properly said to occur by reason of that thing. For
if we intend to do a thing, but mean to do something
else first by means of which it may be done ; when
the first thing which we wish to do is done, if the re
sult is such as we intended, it is properly said to be
on account of the other; since that is now done which
caused the delay; for it had been determined that the
first thing should not be done without the other. If,
for instance, I propose to cross a river only in a boat,
though I can cross it in a boat or on horseback, and
suppose that I delay crossing because the boat is
gone ; but if afterwards I cross, when the boat has re
turned, it may be properly said of me : the boat was
ready, and therefore he crossed. And we not only
use this form of expression, when it is by means of a
thing which we desire should take place first, but
also when we intend to do something else, not by
means of that thing, but only after it. For if one de
lays taking food because he has not to-day attended
the celebration of mass ; when that has been done
which he wished to do first, it is not improper to say
to him : now take food, for you have now done that
for which you delayed taking food. Far less, there
fore, is the language strange, when Christ is said to
be exalted on this account, because he endured death ;
for it was through this, and after this, that he deter
mined to accomplish his exaltation. This may be un
derstood also in the same way as that passage in
which it is said that our Lord increased in wisdom,
and in favor with God ; not that this was really the
/ case, but that he deported himself as if it were so.
For he was exalted after his death, as if it were really
on account of that. Moreover, that saying of his: "I
came not to do mine own will, but the will of him
that sent me," is precisely like that other saying:
"My doctrine is not mine;" for what one does not
have of himself, but of God, he ought not to call his
own, but God's. Now no one has the truth which he
teaches, or a holy will, of himself, but of God. Christ,
therefore, came not to do his own will, but that of the
Father; for his holy will was not derived from his hu
manity, but from his divinity. For that sentence :
"God spared not his own Son, but gave him up for
us all," means nothing more than that he did not
rescue him. For there are found in the Bible many
things like this. Again, when he says: "Father, if
it be passible, let this cup pass from me ; neverthe
less not as I will, but as thou wilt;" and "If this cup
may not pass from me, except I drink it, thy will be
done;" he signifies by his own will the natural desire
of safety, in accordance with which human nature
shrank from the anguish of death. But he speaks of
the will of the Father, not because the Father pre
ferred the death of the Son to his life ; but because
the Father was not willing to rescue the human race,
unless man were to do even as great a thing as was
signified in the death of Christ. Since reason did not
demand of another what he could not do, therefore,
the Son says that he desires his own death. For he
preferred to suffer, rather than that the human race
should be lost ; as if he were to say to the Father :
"Since thou dost not desire the reconciliation of the
world to take place in any other way, in this respect,
I see that thou desirest my death ; let thy will, there
fore, be done, that is, let my death take place, so that
the world may be reconciled to thee." For we often
say that one desires a thing, because he does not
CUR DEUS HOMO. 197
choose something else, the choice of which would pre
clude the existence of that which he is said to desire;
for instance, when we say that he who does not choose
to close the window through which the draft is ad
mitted which puts out the light, wishes the light to
be extinguished. So the Father desired the death of
the Son, because he was not willing that the world
should be saved in any other way, except by man's
doing so great a thing as that which I have men
tioned. And this, since none other could accomplish
it, availed as much with the Son, who so earnestly
desired the salvation of man, as if the Father had
commanded him to die; and, therefore, "as the Fa
ther gave him commandment, so he did, and the cup
which the Father gave to him he drank, being obedi
ent even unto death."
CHAPTER X.
Likewise on the same topics ; and how otherwise they can be cor
rectly explained.
IT is also a fair interpretation that it was by that
same holy will by which the son wished to die for the
salvation of the world, that the Father gave him com
mandment (yet not by compulsion), and the cup of
suffering, and spared him not, but gave him up for
us and desired his death ; and that the Son himself
was obedient even unto death, and learned obedience
from the things which he suffered. For as with re
gard to that will which led him to a holy life, he did
not have it as a human being of himself, but of the
Father; so also that will by which he desired to die
for the accomplishment of so great good, he could
not have had but from the Father of lights, from
ig8 ANSELM.
whom is every good and perfect gift. And as the
Father is said to draw by imparting an inclination,
so there is nothing improper in asserting that he
moves man. For as the Son says of the Father : " No
man cometh to me except the Father draw him," he
might as well have said, except he move him. In like
manner, also, could he have declared: "No man lay-
eth down his life for my sake, except the Father move
or draw him." For since a man is drawn or moved
by his will to that which he invariably chooses, it is
not improper to say that God draws or moves him
when he gives him this will. And in this drawing or
impelling it is not to be understood that there is any
constraint, but a free and grateful clinging to the holy
will which has been given. If then it cannot be de
nied that the Father drew or moved the Son to death
by giving him that will ; who does not see that, in the
same manner, he gave him commandment to endure
death of his own accord and to take the cup, which
he freely drank. And if it is right to say that the Son
spared not himself, but gave himself for us of his
own will, who will deny that it is right to say that the
Father, of whom he had this will, did not spare him
but gave him up for us, and desired his death? In
this way, also, by following the will received from the
Father invariably, and of his own accord, the Son be
came obedient to Him, even unto death ; and learned
obedience from the things which he suffered ; that is,
he learned how great was the work to be accomplished
by obedience. For this is real and sincere obedience
when a rational being, not of compulsion, but freely,
follows the will received from God. In other ways,
also, we can properly explain the Father's desire that
the Son should die, though these would appear sum-
CUR DEUS HOMO. IQ9
cient. For as we say that he desires a thing who
causes another to desire it ; so, also, we say that he
desires a thing who approves of the desire of another,
though he does not cause that desire. Thus when
we see a man who desires to endure pain with forti
tude for the accomplishment of some good design;
though we acknowledge that we wish to have him en
dure that pain, yet we do not choose, nor take pleas
ure in, his suffering, but in his choice. We are, also,
accustomed to say that he who can prevent a thing
but does not, desires the thing which he does not pre
vent. Since, therefore, the will of the Son pleased
the Father, and he did not prevent him from choos
ing, or from fulfilling his choice, it is proper to say
that he wished the Son to endure death so piously
and for so great an object, though he was not pleased
with his suffering. Moreover, he said that the cup
must not pass from him, except he drank it, not be
cause he could not have escaped death had he chosen
to ; but because, as has been said, the world could
not otherwise be saved ; and it was his fixed choice to
suffer death, rather than that the world should not be
saved. It was for this reason, also, that he used those
words, viz., to teach the human race that there was
no other salvation for them but by his death; and not
to show that he had no power at all to avoid death.
For whatsoever things are said of him, similar to
these which have been mentioned, they are all to be
explained in accordance with the belief that he died,
not by compulsion, but of free choice. For he was
omnipotent, and it is said of him, when he was offered
up, that he desired it. And he says himself: "I lay
down my life that I may take it again ; no man taketh
it from me, but I lay it down of myself ; I have power
2OO ANSELM.
to lay it down, and I have power to take it again."
A man cannot, therefore, be properly said to have
been driven to a thing which he does of his own power
and will.
Boso. But this simple fact, that God allows him to
be so treated, even if he were willing, does not seem
becoming for such a Father in respect to such a Son.
Anselm. Yes, it is of all things most proper that
such a Father should acquiesce with such a Son in
his desire, if it be praiseworthy as relates to the honor
of God, and useful for man's salvation, which would
not otherwise be effected.
Boso. The question which still troubles us is, how
the death of the Son can be proved reasonable and
necessary. For otherwise, it does not seem that the
Son ought to desire it, or the Father compel or permit
it. For the question is, why God could not save man
in some other way, and if so, why he wished to do it
in this way? For it both seems unbecoming for God
to have saved man in this way ; and it is not clear
how the death of the Soji avails for the salvation of
man. For it is a strange thing if God so delights in,
or requires, the blood of the innocent, that he neither
chooses, nor is able, to spare the guilty without the
sacrifice of the innocent.
Anselm. Since, in this inquiry, you take the place
of those who are unwilling to believe anything not
previously proved by reason, I wish to have it under
stood between us that we do not admit anything in
the least unbecoming to be ascribed to the Deity, and
that we do not reject the smallest reason if it be not
opposed by a greater. For as it is impossible to at
tribute anything in the least unbecoming to God; so
CUR DEUS HOMO. 2OI
any reason, however small, if not overbalanced by a
greater, has the force of necessity.
Boso. In this matter, I accept nothing more will
ingly than that this agreement should be preserved
between us in common.
Anselm. The question concerns only the incarna
tion of God, and those things which we believe with
regard to his taking human nature.
Boso. It is so.
Anselm. Let us suppose, then, that the incarnation
of God, and the things that we affirm of him as man,
had never taken place ; and be it agreed between us
that man was made for happiness, which cannot be
attained in this life, and that no being can ever arrive
at happiness, save by freedom from sin, and that no
man passes this life without sin. Let us take for
granted, also, the other things, the belief of which is
necessary for eternal salvation.
Boso. I grant it ; for in these there is nothing which
seems unbecoming or impossible for God.
Anselm. Therefore, in order that man may attain
happiness, remission of sin is necessary.
Boso. We all hold this.
CHAPTER XI.
What it is to sin, and to make satisfaction for sin.
Anselm. We must needs inquire, therefore, in what
manner God puts away men's sins ; and, in order to
do this more plainly, let us first consider what it is to
sin, and what it is to make satisfaction for sin.
Boso. It is yours to explain and mine to listen.
Anselm. If man or angel always rendered to God
his due, he would never sin.
202 ANSELM.
Boso. I cannot deny that.
Anselm. Therefore to sin is nothing else than not
to render to God his due.
Boso. What is the debt which we owe to God?
Anselm. Every wish of a rational creature should
be subject to the will of God.
Boso. Nothing is more true.
Anselm. This is the debt which man and angel owe
to God, and no one who pays this debt commits sin ;
but every one who does not pay it sins. This is jus
tice, or uprightness of will, which makes a being just
or upright in heart, that is, in will; and this is the
sole and complete debt of honor which we owe to
God, and which God requires of us. For it is such a
will only, when it can be exercised, that does works
pleasing to God; and when this will cannot be exer
cised, it is pleasing of itself alone, since without it no
work is acceptable. He who does not render this
honor which is due to God, robs God of his own and
dishonors him ; and this is sin. Moreover, so long
as he does not restore what he has taken away, he re
mains in fault; and it will not suffice merely to re
store what has been taken away, but, considering the
contempt offered, he ought to restore more than he
took away. For as one who imperils another's safety
does not enough by merely restoring his safety, with
out making some compensation for the anguish in
curred ; so he who violates another's honor does not
enough by merely rendering honor again, but must,
according to the extent of the injury done, make res
toration in some way satisfactory to the person whom
he has dishonored. We must also observe that when
any one pays what he has unjustly taken away, he
ought to give something which could not have been
CUR DEUS HOMO. 2O3
demanded of him, had he not stolen what belonged
to another. So then, every one who sins ought to
pay back the honor of which he has robbed God ; and
this is the satisfaction which every sinner owes to
God.
Boso. Since we have determined to follow reason
in all these things, I am unable to bring any objection
against them, although you somewhat startle me.
CHAPTER XII.
Whether it were proper for God to put away sins by compassion
alone, without any payment of debt.
Anselm. Let us return and consider whether it
were proper for God to put away sins by compassion
alone, without any payment of the honor taken from
him.
Boso. I do not see why it is not proper.
Anselm. To remit sin in this manner is nothing
else than not to punish ; and since it is not right to
cancel sin without compensation or punishment; if
it be not punished, then is it passed by undischarged.
Boso. What you say is reasonable.
Anselm. It is not fitting for God to pass over any
thing in his kingdom undischarged.
Boso. If I wish to oppose this, I fear to sin.
Anselm. It is, therefore, not proper for God thus
to pass over sin unpunished.
Boso. Thus it follows.
Anselm. There is also another thing which follows
if sin be passed by unpunished, viz., that with God
there will be no difference between the guilty and the
not guilty; and this is unbecoming to God.
Boso. I cannot deny it.
204 ANSELM.
Ansclm. Observe this also. Every one knows that
justice to man is regulated by law, so that, according
to the requirements of law, the measure of award is
bestowed by God.
Boso. This is our belief.
Anselm. But if sin is neither paid for nor punished,
it is subject to no law.
Boso. I cannot conceive it to be otherwise.
Anselm. Injustice, therefore, if it is cancelled by
compassion alone, is more free than justice, which
seems very inconsistent. And to these is also added
a further incongruity, viz., that it makes injustice like
God. For as God is subject to no law, so neither is
injustice.
Boso. I cannot withstand your reasoning. But
when God commands us in every case to forgive those
who trespass against us, it seems inconsistent to en
join a thing upon us which it is not proper for him to
do himself.
Anselm. There is no inconsistency in God's com
manding us not to take upon ourselves what belongs
to Him alone. For to execute vengeance belongs to
none but Him who is Lord of all ; for when the powers
of the world rightly accomplish this end, God himself
does it who appointed them for the purpose.
Boso. You have obviated the difficulty which I
thought to exist; but there is another to which I
would like to have your answer. For since God is so
free as to be subject to no law, and to the judgment
of no one, and is so merciful as that nothing more
merciful can be conceived ; and nothing is right or fit
save as he wills ; it seems a strange thing for us to
say that he is wholly unwilling or unable to put away
an injury done to himself, when we are wont to apply
CUR DEUS HOMO. 205
to him for indulgence with regard to those offences
which we commit against others.
Ansclm. What you say of God's liberty and choice
and compassion is true; but we ought so to interpret
these things as that they may not seem to interfere
with His dignity. For there is no liberty except as
regards what is best or fitting; nor should that be
called mercy which does anything improper for the
Divine character. Moreover, when it is said that what
God wishes is just, and that what He does not wish
is unjust, we must not understand that if God wished
anything improper it would be just, simply because
he wished it. For if God wishes to lie, we must not
conclude that it is right to lie, but rather that he is
not God. For no will can ever wish to lie, unless
truth in it is impaired, nay, unless the will itself be
impaired by forsaking truth. When, then, it is said :
"If God wishes to lie," the meaning is simply this :
"If the nature of God is such as that he wishes to
lie;" and, therefore, it does not follow that falsehood
is right, except it be understood in the same manner
as when we speak of two impossible things : "If this
be true, then that follows; because neither this nor
that is true;" as if a man should say: "Supposing
water to be dry, and fire to be moist; " for neither is
the case. Therefore, with regard to these things, to
speak the whole truth : If God desires a thing, it is
right that he should desire that which involves no
unfitness. For if God chooses that it should rain, it
is right that it should rain; and if he desires that any
man should die, then is it right that he should die.
Wherefore, if it be not fitting for God to do anything
unjustly, or out of course, it does not belong to his
liberty or compassion or will to let the sinner go un-
206 ANSELM.
punished, who makes no return to God of what the
sinner has defrauded him.
Boso. You remove from me every possible objec
tion which I had thought of bringing against you.
Anselm. Yet observe why it is not fitting for God
to do this.
Boso. I listen readily to whatever you say.
CHAPTER XIII.
How nothing less was to be endured, in the order of things, than
that the creature should take away the honor due the Creator
and not restore what he takes away.
Anselm. In the order of things, there is nothing
less to be endured than that the creature should take
away the honor due the Creator, and not restore what
he has taken away.
Boso. Nothing is more plain than this.
Anselm. But there is no greater injustice suffered
than that by which so great an evil must be endured.
Boso. This, also, is plain.
Anselm. I think, therefore, that you will not say
that God ought to endure a thing than which no
greater injustice is suffered, viz., that the creature
should not restore to God what he has taken away.
Boso. No ; I think it should be wholly denied.
Anselm. Again, if there is nothing greater or better
than God, there is nothing more just than supreme
justice, which maintains God's honor in the arrange
ment of things, and which is nothing else but God
himself.
Boso. There is nothing clearer than this.
Anselm. Therefore God maintains nothing with
more justice than the honor of his own dignity.
CUR DEUS HOMO. 2O7
Boso. I must agree with you.
Ansclm. Does it seem to you that he wholly pre
serves it, if he allows himself to be so defrauded of it
as that he should neither receive satisfaction nor
punish the one defrauding him.
Boso. I dare not say so.
Ansclm. Therefore the honor taken away must be
repaid, or punishment must follow ; otherwise, either
God will not be just to himself, or he will be weak in
respect to both parties; and this it is impious even to
think of.
Boso. I think that nothing more reasonable can be
said.
CHAPTER XIV.
How the honor of God exists in the punishment of the wicked.
Boso. But I wish to hear from you whether the
punishment of the sinner is an honor to God, or how
it is an honor. For if the punishment of the sinner
is not for God's honor when the sinner does not pay
what he took away, but is punished, God loses his
honor so that he cannot recover it. And this seems
in contradiction to the things which have been said.
Anselm. It is impossible for God to lose his honor;
for either the sinner pays his debt of his own accord,
or, if he refuse, God takes it from him. For either
man renders due submission to God of his own will,
by avoiding sin or making payment, or else God sub
jects him to himself by torments, even against man's
will, and thus shows that he is the Lord of man,
though man refuses to acknowledge it of his own ac
cord. And here we must observe that as man in sin
ning takes away what belongs to God, so God in pun
ishing gets in return what pertains to man. For not
208 ANSELM.
only does that belong to a man which he has in pres
ent possession, but also that which it is in his power
to have. Therefore, since man was so made as to be
able to attain happiness by avoiding sin ; if, on ac
count of his sin, he is deprived of happiness and every
good, he repays from his own inheritance what he
has stolen, though he repay it against his will. For
although God does not apply what he takes away to
any object of his own, as man transfers the money
which he has taken from another to his own use ; yet
what he takes away serves the purpose of his own
honor, for this very reason, that it is taken away. For
by this act he shows that the sinner and all that per
tains to him are under his subjection.
CHAPTER XV.
Whether God suffers his honor to be violated even in the least de
gree.
Boso. What you say satisfies me. But there is still
another point which I should like to have you answer.
For if, as you make out, God ought to sustain his
own honor, why does he allow it to be violated even
in the least degree ? For what is in any way made
liable to injury is not entirely and perfectly preserved.
Anselm. Nothing can be added to or taken from
the honor of God. For this honor which belongs to
him is in no way subject to injury or change. But
as the individual creature preserves, naturally or by
reason, the condition belonging, and, as it were,
allotted to him, he is said to obey and honor God ;
and to this, rational nature, which possesses intelli
gence, is especially bound. And when the being
chooses what he ought, he honors God ; not by be-
CUR DEUS HOMO. 2OQ
stowing anything upon him, but because he brings
himself freely under God's will and disposal, and
maintains his own condition in the universe, and the
beauty of the universe itself, as far as in him lies.
But when he does not choose what he ought, he dis
honors God, as far as the being himself is concerned,
because he does not submit himself freely to God's
disposal. And he disturbs the order and beauty of
the universe, as relates to himself, although he can
not injure nor tarnish the power and majesty of God.
For if those things which are held together in the cir
cuit of the heavens desire to be elsewhere than under
the heavens, or to be further removed from the heav
ens, there is no place where they can be but under
the heavens, nor can they fly from the heavens with
out also approaching them. For both whence and
whither and in what way they go, they are still under
the heavens ; and if they are at a greater distance
from one part of them, they are only so much nearer
to the opposite part. And so, though man or evil
angel refuse to submit to the Divine will and appoint
ment, yet he cannot escape it ; for if he wishes to fly
from a will that commands, he falls into the power of
a will that punishes. And if you ask whither he goes,
it is only under the permission of that will ; and even
this wayward choice or action of his becomes subser
vient, under infinite wisdom, to the order and beauty
of the universe before spoken of. For when it is un
derstood that God brings good out of many forms of
evil, then the satisfaction for sin freely given, or if
this be not given, the exaction of punishment, hold
their own place and orderly beauty in the same uni
verse. For if Divine wisdom were not to insist upon
these things, when wickedness tries to disturb the
right appointment, there would be, in the very uni
verse which God ought to control, an unseemliness
springing from the violation of the beauty of arrange
ment, and God would appear to be deficient in his
management. And these two things are not only un
fitting, but consequently impossible ; so that satisfac
tion or punishment must needs follow every sin.
Boso. You have relieved my objection.
Anselm. It is then plain that no one can honor or
dishonor God, as he is in himself; but the creature,
as far as he is concerned, appears to do this when he
submits or opposes his will to the will of God.
Boso. I know of nothing which can be said against
this.
Anselm. Let me add something to it.
Boso. Go on, until I am weary of listening.
CHAPTER XVI.
The reason why the number of angels who fell must be made up
from men.
Anselm. It was proper that God should design to
make up for the number of angels that fell, from hu
man nature which he created without sin.
Boso. This is a part of our belief, but still I should
like to have some reason for it.
Anselm. You mistake me, for we intended to dis
cuss only the incarnation of the Deity, and here you
are bringing in other questions.
Boso. Be not angry with me ; "for the Lord loveth
a cheerful giver; " and no one shows better how cheer
fully he gives what he promises, than he who gives
more than he promises ; therefore, tell me freely what
I ask.
Anselm. There is no question that intelligent na-
CUR DEUS HOMO. 21 T
ture, which finds its happiness, both now and forever,
in the contemplation of God, was foreseen by him in
a certain reasonable and complete number, so that
there would be an unfitness in its being either less
or greater. For either God did not know in what
number it was best to create rational beings, which is
false ; or, if he did know, then he appointed such a
number as he perceived was most fitting. Wherefore,
either the angels who fell were made so as to be
within that number; or, since they were out of that
number, they could not continue to exist, and so fell
of necessity. But this last is an absurd idea.
Boso. The truth which you set forth is plain.
Anselm. Therefore, since they ought to be of that
number, either their number should of necessity be
made up, or else rational nature, which was foreseen
as perfect in number, will remain incomplete. But
this cannot be.
Boso. Doubtless, then, the number must be re
stored.
Anselm. But this restoration can only be made
from human beings, since there is no other source.
CHAPTER XVII.
How other angels cannot take the place of those who fell.
Boso. Why could not they themselves be restored,
or other angels substituted for them?
Anselm. When you shall see the difficulty of our
restoration, you will understand the impossibility of
theirs. But other angels cannot be substituted for
them on this account (to pass over its apparent incon
sistency with the completeness of the first creation),
because they ought to be such as the former angels
would have been, had they never sinned. But the
first angels in that case would have persevered with
out ever witnessing the punishment of sin ; which, in
respect to the others who were substituted for them
after their fall, was impossible. For two beings who
stand firm in truth are not equally deserving of praise,
if one has never seen the punishment of sin, and the
other forever witnesses its eternal reward. For it
must not for a moment be supposed that good angels
are upheld by the fall of evil angels, but by their own
virtue. For, as they would have been condemned to
gether, had the good sinned with the bad, so, had the
unholy stood firm with the holy, they would have been
likewise upheld. For, if, without the fall of a part,
the rest could not be upheld, it would follow, either
that none could ever be upheld, or else that it was
necessary for some one to fall, in order by his punish
ment to uphold the rest ; but either of these supposi
tions is absurd. Therefore, had all stood, all would
have been upheld in the same manner as those who
stood; and this manner I explained, as well as I
could, when treating of the reason why God did not
bestow perseverance upon the devil.
Boso. You have proved that the evil angels must
be restored from the human race ; and from this rea
soning it appears that the number of men chosen will
not be less than that of fallen angels. But show, if
you can, whether it will be greater.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Whether there will be more holy men than evil angels.
Anselm. If the angels, before any of them fell, ex
isted in that perfect number of which we have spoken,
CUR DEUS HOMO. 213
then men were only made to supply the place of the
lost angels; and it is plain that their number will not
be greater. But if that number were not found in all
the angels together, then both the loss and the orig
inal deficiency must be made up from men, and more
men will be chosen than there were fallen angels.
And so we shall say that men were made not only to
restore the diminished number, but also to complete
the imperfect number.
Boso. Which is the better theory, that angels were
originally made perfect in number or that they were
not?
Anselm. I will state my views.
Boso. I cannot ask more of you.
Anselm. If man was created after the fall of evil
angels, as some understand the account in Genesis, I
do not think that I can prove from this either of these
suppositions positively. For it is possible, I think,
that the angels should have been created perfect in
number, and that afterwards man was created to com
plete theirn umber when it had been lessened ; and
it is also possible that they were not perfect in num
ber, because God deferred completing the number, as
he does even now, determining in his own time to
create man. Wherefore, either God would only com
plete that which was not yet perfect, or, if it were also
diminished, He would restore it. But if the whole
creation took place at once, and those days in which
Moses appears to describe a successive creation are
not to be understood like such days as ours, I cannot
see how angels could have been created perfect in
number. Since, if it were so, it seems to me that
some, either men or angels, would fall immediately,
else in heaven's empire there would be more than the
\
214 ANSELM.
complete number required. If, therefore, all things
were created at one and the same time, it should seem
that angels, and the first two human beings, formed
an incomplete number, so that, if no angel fell, the
deficiency alone should be made up, but if any fell,
the lost part should be restored ; and that human na
ture, which had stood firm, though weaker than that
of angels, might, as it were, justify God, and put the
devil to silence, if he were to attribute his fall to
weakness. And in case human nature fell, much more
would it justify God against the devil, and even against
itself, because, though made far weaker and of a mor
tal race, yet, in the elect, it would rise from its weak
ness to an estate exalted above that from which the
devil was fallen, as far as good angels, to whom it
should be equal, were advanced after the overthrow
of the evil, because they persevered. From these rea
sons, I am rather inclined to the belief that there was
not, originally, that complete number of angels neces
sary to perfect the celestial state ; since, supposing
that man and angels were not created at the same
time, this is possible ; and it would follow of neces
sity, if they were created at the same time, which is
the opinion of the majority, because we read : "He,
who liveth forever, created all things at once." But
if the perfection of the created universe is to be un-
i derstood as consisting, not so much in the number of
/ beings, as in the number of natures; it follows that
human nature was either made to consummate this
perfection, or that it was superfluous, which we should
not dare affirm of the nature of the smallest reptile.
Wherefore, then, it was made for itself, and not merely
to restore the number of beings possessing another
nature. From which it is plain that, even had no
CUR DEUS HOMO. 215
angel fallen, men would yet have had their place in
the celestial kingdom. And hence it follows that
there was not a perfect number of angels, even before
a part fell ; otherwise, of necessity some men or an
gels must fall, because it would be impossible that
any should continue beyond the perfect number.
Boso. You have not labored in vain.
Anselm. There is, also, as I think, another reason
which supports, in no small degree, the opinion that
angels were not created perfect in number.
Boso. Let us hear it.
Anselm. Had a perfect number of angels been cre
ated, and had man been made only to fill the place of
the lost angels, it is plain that, had not some angels
fallen from their happiness, man would never have
been exalted to it.
Boso. We are agreed.
Anselm. But if any one shall ask : " Since the elect
rejoice as much over the fall of angels as over their
own exaltation, because the one can never take place
without the other; how can they be justified in this
unholy joy, or how shall we say that angels are re
stored by the substitution of men, if they (the angels)
would have remained free from this fault, had they
not fallen, viz., from rejoicing over the fall of others?"
We reply: Cannot men be made free from this fault?
nay, how ought they to be happy with this fault?
With what temerity, then, do we say that God neither
wishes nor is able to make this substitution without
this fault !
Boso. Is not the case similar to that of the Gentiles
who were called unto faith, because the Jews rejected
it?
Anselm. No; for had the Jews all believed, yet the
2l6 ANSELM.
Gentiles would have been called; for "in every na
tion he that feareth God and worketh righteousness
is accepted of him." But since the Jews despised the
apostles, this was the immediate occasion of their
turning to the Gentiles.
Boso. I see no way of opposing you.
Anselm. Whence does that joy which one has over
another's fall seem to arise?
Boso. Whence, to be sure, but from the fact that
each individual will be certain that, had not another
fallen, he would never have attained the place where
he now is?
Anselm. If, then, no one had this certainty, there
would be no cause for one to rejoice over the doom of
another.
Boso. So it appears.
Anselm. Think you that any one of them can have
this certainty, if their number shall far exceed that of
those who fell?
Boso. I certainly cannot think that any one would
or ought to have it. For how can any one know
whether he were created to restore the part dimin
ished, or to make up that which was not yet complete
in the number necessary to constitute the state? But
all are sure that they were made with a view to the
perfection of that kingdom.
Anselm. If, then, there shall be a larger number
than that of the fallen angels, no one can or ought to
know that he would not have attained this height but
for another's fall.
Boso. That is true.
Anselm. No one, therefore, will have cause to re
joice over the perdition of another.
Boso. So it appears.
CUR DEUS HOMO. 217
Anselm. Since, then, we see that if there are more
men elected than the number of fallen angels, the in
congruity will not follow which must follow if there
are not more men elected ; and since it is impossible
that there should be anything incongruous in that
celestial state, it becomes a necessary fact that angels
were not made perfect in number, and that there will
be more happy men than doomed angels.
Boso. I see not how this can be denied.
Anselm. I think that another reason can be brought
to support this opinion.
Boso. You ought then to present it.
Anselm. We believe that the material substance of
the world must be renewed, and that this will not
take place until the number of the elect is accom
plished, and that happy kingdom made perfect, and
that after its completion there will be no change.
Whence it may be reasoned that God planned to per
fect both at the same time, in order that the inferior
nature, which knew not God, might not be perfected
before the superior nature which ought to enjoy God;
and that the inferior, being renewed at the same time
with the superior, might, as it were, rejoice in its own
way; yes, that every creature having so glorious and
excellent a consummation, might delight in its Creator
and in itself, in turn, rejoicing always after its own
manner, so that what the will effects in the rational
nature of its own accord, this also the irrational crea
ture naturally shows by the arrangement of God. For
we are wont to rejoice in the fame of our ancestors,
as when on the birthdays of the saints we delight with
festive triumph, rejoicing in their honor. And this
opinion derives support from the fact that, had not
Adam sinned, God might yet put off the completion
2l8 ANSELM.
of that state until the number of men which he de
signed should be made out, and men themselves be
transferred, so to speak, to an immortal state of bodily
existence. For they had in paradise a kind of immor
tality, that is, a power not to die, but since it was
possible for them to die, this power was not immor
tal, as if, indeed, they had not been capable of death.
But if God determined to bring to perfection, at one
and the same time, that intelligent and happy state
and this earthly and irrational nature ; it follows that
either that state was not complete in the number of
angels before the destruction of the wicked, but God
was waiting to complete it by men, when he should
renovate the material nature of the world ; or that, if
that kingdom were perfect in number, it was not in
confirmation, and its confirmation must be deferred,
even had no one sinned, until that renewal of the
world to which we look forward ; or that, if that con
firmation could not be deferred so long, the renewal
of the world must be hastened that both events might
take place at the same time. But that God should
determine to renew the world immediately after it
was made, and to destroy in the very beginning those
things which after this renewal would not exist, be
fore any reason appeared for their creation, is simply
absurd. It therefore follows that, since angels were
not complete in number, their confirmation will not
be long deferred on this account, because the renewal
of a world just created ought soon to take place, for
this is not fitting. But that God should wish to put
off their confirmation to the future renewing of the
world seems improper, since he so quickly accom
plished it in some, and since we know that in regard
to our first parents, if they had not sinned as they did,
CUR DEUS HOMO. 2IQ
he would have confirmed them, as well as the angels
who persevered. For, although not yet advanced to
that equality with angels to which men were to attain,
when the number taken from among them was com
plete; yet, had they preserved their original holiness,
so as not to have sinned though tempted, they would
have been confirmed, with all their offspring, so as
never more to sin ; just as when they were conquered
by sin, they were so weakened as to be unable, in
themselves, to live afterwards without sinning. For
who dares affirm that wickedness is more powerful to
bind a man in servitude, after he has yielded to it at
the first persuasion, than holiness to confirm him in
liberty when he has adhered to it in the original trial?
For as human nature, being included in the person of
our first parents, was in them wholly won over to sin
(with the single exception of that man whom God be
ing able to create from a virgin was equally able to
save from the sin of Adam), so had they not sinned,
human nature would have wholly conquered. It there
fore remains that the celestial state was not complete
in its original number, but must be completed from
among men.
Boso. What you say seems very reasonable to me.
But what shall we think of that which is said respect
ing God : " He hath appointed the bounds of the peo
ple according to the number of the children of Israel ; "
which some, because for the expression "children of
Israel" is found sometimes "angels of God," explain
in this way, that the number of elect men taken should
be understood as equal to that of good angels?
Anselm. This is not discordant with the previous
opinion, if it be not certain that the number of angels
who fell is the same as that of those who stood. For
22O ANSELM.
if there be more elect than evil angels, and elect men
must needs be substituted for the evil angels, and it
is possible for them to equal the number of the good
angels, in that case there will be more holy men than
evil angels. But remember with what condition I un
dertook to answer your inquiry, viz., that if I say any
thing not upheld by greater authority, though I ap
pear to demonstrate it, yet it should be received with
no further certainty than as my opinion for the pres
ent, until God makes some clearer revelation to me.
For I am sure that, if I say anything which plainly
opposes the Holy Scriptures, it is false ; and if I am
aware of it, I will no longer hold it. But if, with re
gard to subjects in which opposite opinions may be
held without hazard, as that, for instance, which we
now discuss; for if we know not whether there are to
be more men elected than the number of the lost an
gels, and incline to either of these opinions rather
than the other, I think the soul is not in danger ; if,
I say, in questions like this, we explain the Divine
words so as to make them favor different sides, and
there is nowhere found anything to decide, beyond
doubt, the opinion that should be held, I think there
is no censure to be given. As to the passage which
you spoke of: "He hath determined the bounds of
the people (or tribes) according to the number of the
angels of God ; " or as another translation has it : " ac
cording to the number of the children of Israel ; "
since both translations either mean the same thing, or
are different, without contradicting each other, we
may understand that good angels only are intended
by both expressions, "angels of God," and "children
of Israel," or that elect men only are meant, or that
both angels and elect men are included, even the
CUR DEUS HOMO. 221
whole celestial kingdom. Or by angels of God may
be understood holy angels only, and by children of
Israel, holy men only; or, by children of Israel, an
gels only, and by angels of God, holy men. If good
angels are intended in both expressions, it is the same
as if only "angels of God " had been used ; but if the
whole heavenly kingdom were included, the meaning
is, that a people, that is, the throng of elect men, is to
be taken, or that there will be a people in this stage
of existence, until the appointed number of that king
dom, not yet completed, shall be made up from among
men. But I do not now see why angels only, or even
angels and holy men together, are meant by the expres
sion "children of Israel"; for it is not improper to
call holy men "children of Israel," as they are called
"sons of Abraham." And they can also properly be
called "angels of God," because they imitate the life
of angels, and they are promised in heaven a likeness
to and equality with angels, and all who live holy
lives are angels of God. Therefore the confessors or
martyrs are so called; for he who declares and bears
witness to the truth, he is a messenger of God, that
is, his angel. And if a wicked man is called a devil,
as our Lord says of Judas, because they are alike in
malice ; why should not a good man be called an an
gel, because he follows holiness ? Wherefore I think
we may say that God hath appointed the bounds of
the people according to the number of elect men, be
cause men will exist and there will be a natural in
crease among them, until the number of elect men is
accomplished ; and when that occurs, the birth of
men, which takes place in this life, will cease. But if
by "angels of God" we only understand holy angels,
and by "children of Israel" only holy men; it may
222 ANSELM.
be explained in two ways : that "God hath appointed
the bounds of the people according to the number of
the angels of God," viz., either that so great a peo
ple, that is, so many men, will be taken as there are
holy angels of God, or that a people will continue to
exist upon earth, until the number of angels is com
pleted from among men. And I think there is no
other possible method of explanation: "he hath ap
pointed the bounds of the people according to the
number of the children of Israel," that is, that there
will continue to be a people in this stage of existence,
as I said above, until the number of holy men is com
pleted. And we infer from either translation that as
many men will be taken as there were angels who re
mained steadfast. Yet, although lost angels must have
their ranks filled by men, it does not follow that the
number of lost angels was equal to that of those who
persevered. But if any one affirms this, he will have
to find means of invalidating the reasons given above,
which prove, I think, that there was not among an
gels, before the fall, that perfect number before men
tioned, and that there are more men to be saved than
the number of evil angels.
Boso. I by no means regret that I urged you to
these remarks about the angels, for it has not been
for nought. Now let us return from our digression.
CHAPTER XIX.
How man cannot be saved without satisfaction for sin.
Anselm. It was fitting for God to fill the places of
the fallen angels from among men.
Boso. That is certain.
Anselm, Therefore there ought to be in the heav-
CUR DEUS HOMO. 223
enly empire as many men taken as substitutes for the
angels as would correspond with the number whose
place they shall take, that is, as many as there are
good angels now ; otherwise they who fell will not be
restored, and it will follow that God either could not
accomplish the good which he begun, or he will re
pent of having undertaken it ; either of which is ab
surd.
Boso. Truly it is fitting that men should be equal
with good angels.
Anselm. Have good angels ever sinned?
Boso. No.
Anselm. Can you think that man, who has sinned,
and never made satisfaction to God for his sin, but
only been suffered to go unpunished, may become the
equal of an angel who has never sinned?
Boso. These words I can both think of and utter,
but can no more perceive their meaning than I can
make truth out of falsehood.
Anselm. Therefore it is not fitting that God should
take sinful man without an atonement, in substitution
for lost angels ; for truth will not suffer man thus to
be raised to an equality with holy beings.
Boso. Reason shows this.
Anselm. Consider, also, leaving out the question of
equality with the angels, whether God ought, under
such circumstances, to raise man to the same or a
similar kind of happiness as that which he had before
he sinned.
Boso. Tell your opinion, and I will attend to it as
well as I can.
Anselm. Suppose a rich man possessed a choice
pearl which had never been defiled, and which could
not be taken from his hands without his permission ;
224 ANSELM.
and that he determined to commit it to the treasury
of his dearest and most valuable possessions.
Boso. I accept your supposition.
Ansclm. What if he should allow it to be struck
from his hand and cast in the mire, though he might
have prevented it ; and afterwards taking it all soiled
by the mire and unwashed, should commit it again to
his beautiful and loved casket; will you consider him
a wise man?
Boso. How can I ? for would it not be far better to
keep and preserve his pearl pure, than to have it pol
luted?
Ansclm. Would not God be acting like this, who
held man in paradise, as it were in his own hand,
without sin, and destined to the society of angels, and
allowed the devil, inflamed with envy, to cast him into
the mire of sin, though truly with man's consent?
For, had God chosen to restrain the devil, the devil
could not have tempted man. Now I say, would not
God be acting like this, should he restore man, stained
with the defilement of sin, unwashed, that is, without
any satisfaction, and always to remain so; should He
restore him at once to paradise, from which he had
been thrust out?
Boso. I dare not deny the aptness of your com
parison, were God to do this, and therefore do not
admit that he can do this. For it should seem either
that he could not accomplish what he designed, or
else that he repented of his good intent, neither of
which things is possible with God.
Ansclm. Therefore, consider it settled that, with
out satisfaction, that is, without voluntary payment of
the debt, God can neither pass by the sin unpunished,
nor can the sinner attain that happiness, or happiness
CUR DEUS HOMO. 225
like that, which he had before he sinned; for man
cannot in this way be restored, or become such as he
was before he sinned.
Boso. I am wholly unable to refute your reason
ing. But what say you to this: that we pray God,
"put away our sins from us," and every nation prays
the God of its faith to put away its sins. For, if we
pay our debt, why do we pray God to put it away?
Is not God unjust to demand what has already been
paid? But if we do not make payment, why do we
supplicate in vain that he will do what he cannot do,
because it is unbecoming?
Ansclm. He who does not pay says in vain : "Par
don"; but he who pays makes supplication, because
prayer is properly connected with the payment; for
God owes no man anything, but every creature owes
God ; and, therefore, it does not become man to treat
with God as with an equal. But of this it is not now
needful for me to answer you. For when you think
why Christ died, I think you will see yourself the an
swer to your question.
Boso. Your reply with regard to this matter suf
fices me for the present. And, moreover, you have
so clearly shown that no man can attain happiness in
sin, or be freed from sin without satisfaction for the
trespass, that, even were I so disposed, I could not
doubt it.
CHAPTER XX.
That satisfaction ought to be proportionate to guilt ; and that man
is of himself unable to accomplish this
Ansclm. Neither, I think, will you doubt this, that
satisfaction should be proportionate to guilt.
Boso. Otherwise sin would remain in a manner ex-
226 ANSELM.
empt from control (jnordinatum), which cannot be, for
God leaves nothing uncontrolled in his kingdom. But
this is determined, that even the smallest unfitness is
impossible with God.
Anselm, Tell me, then, what payment you make
God for your sin?
Boso. Repentance, a broken and contrite heart,
self-denial, various bodily sufferings, pity in giving
and forgiving, and obedience.
Anselm. What do you give to God in all these?
Boso. Do I not honor God, when, for his love and
fear, in heartfelt contrition I give up worldly joy, and
despise, amid abstinence and toils, the delights and
ease of this life, and submit obediently to him, freely
bestowing my possessions in giving to and releasing
others?
Anselm. When you render anything to God which
you owe him, irrespective of your past sin, you should
not reckon this as the debt which you owe for sin.
But you owe God every one of those things which you
have mentioned. For, in this mortal state, there
should be such love and such desire of attaining the
true end of your being, which is the meaning of
prayer, and such grief that you have not yet reached
this object, and such fear lest you fail of it, that you
should find joy in nothing which does not help you or
give encouragement of your success. For you do not
deserve to have a thing which you do not love and
desire for its own sake, and the want of which at pres
ent, together with the great danger of never getting
it, causes you no grief. This also requires one to
avoid ease and worldly pleasures such as seduce the
mind from real rest and pleasure, except so far as you
think suffices for the accomplishment of that object.
CUR DEUS HOMO. 227
But you ought to view the gifts which you bestow as
a part of your debt, since you know that what you
give comes not from yourself, but from him whose
servant both you are and he also to whom you give.
And nature herself teaches you to do to your fellow
servant, man to man, as you would be done by; and
that he who will not bestow what he has ought not to
receive what he has not. Of forgiveness, indeed, I
speak briefly, for, as we said above, vengeance in no
sense belongs to you, since you are not your own,
nor is he who injures you yours or his, but you are
both the servants of one Lord, made by him out of
nothing. And if you avenge yourself upon your fel
low servant, you proudly assume judgment over him
when it is the peculiar right of God, the judge of all.
But what do you give to God by your obedience,
which is not owed him already, since he demands
from you all that you are and have and can become?
Boso. Truly I dare not say that in all these things
I pay any portion of my debt to God.
Anselm. How then do you pay God for your trans
gression?
Boso. If in justice I owe God myself and all my
powers, even when I do not sin, I have nothing left
to render to him for my sin.
Anselm. What will become of you then? How will
you be saved?
Boso. Merely looking at your arguments, I see no
way of escape. But, turning to my belief, I hope
through Christian faith, "which works by love," that
I may be saved, and the more, since we read that if
the sinner turns from his iniquity and does what is
right, all his transgressions shall be forgotten.
Anselm. This is only said of those who either
228
looked for Christ before his coming, or who believe
in him since he has appeared. But we set aside
Christ and his religion as if they did not exist, when
we proposed to inquire whether his coming were nec
essary to man's salvation.
Boso. We did so.
Ansclm. Let us then proceed by reason simply.
Boso. Though you bring me into straits, yet I very
much wish you to proceed as you have begun.
CHAPTER XXI.
How great a burden sin is.
Anselm. Suppose that you did not owe any of those
things which you have brought up as possible pay
ment for your sin, let us inquire whether they can
satisfy for a sin so small as one look contrary to the
will of God.
Boso. Did I not hear you question the thing, I
should suppose that a single repentant feeling on my
part would blot out this sin.
Anselm. You have not as yet estimated the great
burden of sin.
Boso. Show it me then.
Anselm. If you should find yourself in the sight of
God, and one said to you : "Look thither; " and God,
on the other hand, should say: "It is not my will that
you should look ; " ask your own heart what there is
in all existing things which would make it right for
you to give that look contrary to the will of God.
Boso. I can find no motive which would make it
right; unless, indeed I am so situated as to make it
necessary for me either to do this, or some greater sin.
Anselm. Put away all such necessity, and ask with
CUR DEUS HOMO. 22Q
regard to this sin only whether you can do it even for
your own salvation.
Boso. I see plainly that I cannot.
Anselm. Not to detain you too long ; what if it
v/ere necessary either that the whole universe, except
God himself, should perish and fall back into noth
ing, or else that you should do so small a thing against
the will of God?
Boso. When I consider the action itself, it appears
very slight ; but when I view it as contrary to the will
of God, I know of nothing so grievous, and of no loss
that will compare with it ; but sometimes we oppose
another's will without blame in order to preserve his
property, so that afterwards he is glad that we op
posed him.
Anselm. This is in the case of man, who often
does not know what is useful for him, or cannot make
up his loss ; but God is in want of nothing, and,
should all things perish, can restore them as easily as
he created them.
Boso. I must confess that I ought not to oppose
the will of God even to preserve the whole creation.
Anselm. What if there were more worlds as full of
beings as this?
Boso. Were they increased to an infinite extent,
and held before me in like manner, my reply would
be the same.
Anselm. You cannot answer more correctly, but
consider, also, should it happen that you gave the
look contrary to God's will, what payment you can
make for this sin?
Boso. I can only repeat what I said before.
Anselm. So heinous is our sin whenever we know
ingly oppose the will of God even in the slightest
230 ANSELM.
thing; since we are always in his sight, and he always
enjoins it upon us not to sin.
Boso. I cannot deny it.
Anselm. Therefore you make no satisfaction unless
you restore something greater than the amount of
that obligation, which should restrain you from com
mitting the sin.
Boso. Reason seems to demand this, and to make
the contrary wholly impossible.
Anselm. Even God cannot raise to happiness any
being bound at all by the debt of sin, because He
ought not to.
Boso. This decision is most weighty.
Anselm. Listen to an additional reason which
makes it no less difficult for man to be reconciled to
God.
Boso. This alone would drive me to despair, were
it not for the consolation of faith.
Anselm. But listen.
Boso. Say on.
CHAPTER XXII.
What contempt man brought upon God, when he allowed himself
to be conquered by the devil ; for which he can make no satis
faction.
Anselm. Man being made holy was placed in para
dise, as it were in the place of God, between God and
the devil, to conquer the devil by not yielding to his
temptation, and so to vindicate the honor of God and
put the devil to shame, because that man, though
weaker and dwelling upon earth, should not sin though
tempted by the devil, while the devil, though stronger
and in heaven, sinned without any to tempt him. And
when man could have easily effected this, he, without
CUR DEUS HOMO. 231
compulsion and of his own accord, allowed himself to
be brought over to the will of the devil, contrary to
the will and honor of God.
Boso. To what would you bring me?
Anselm. Decide for yourself if it be not contrary
to the honor of God for man to be reconciled to Him,
with this calumnious reproach still heaped upon God ;
unless man first shall have honored God by overcom
ing the devil, as he dishonored him in yielding to the
devil. Now the victory ought to be of this kind, that,
as in strength and immortal vigor, he freely yielded
to the devil to sin, and on this account justly incurred
the penalty of death ; so, in his weakness and mor
tality, which he had brought upon himself, he should
conquer the devil by the pain of death, while wholly
avoiding sin. But this cannot be done, so long as
from the deadly effect of the first transgression, man
is conceived and born in sin.
Boso. Again I say that the thing is impossible,
and reason approves what you say.
Anselm. Let me mention one thing more, without
which man's reconciliation cannot be justly effected,
and the impossibility is the same.
Boso. You have already presented so many obliga
tions which we ought to fulfil, that nothing which you
can add will alarm me more.
Anselm. Yet listen.
Boso. I will.
CHAPTER XXIII.
What man took from God by his sin, which he has no power to
repay.
Anselm. What did man take from God, when he
allowed himself to be overcome by the devil?
232 ANSELM.
Boso. Go on to mention, as you have begun, the
evil things which can be added to those already shown
for I am ignorant of them.
Anselm. Did not man take from God whatever He
had purposed to do for human nature?
Boso. There is no denying that.
Anselm. Listen to the voice of strict justice; and
judge according to that whether man makes to God a
real satisfaction for his sin, unless, by overcoming
the devil, man restore to God what he took from God
in allowing himself to be conquered by the devil ; so
that, as by this conquest over man the devil took what
belonged to God, and God was the loser, so in man's
victory the devil may be despoiled, and God recover
his right.
Boso. Surely nothing can be more exactly or justly
conceived.
Anselm. Think you that supreme justice can vio
late this justice?
Boso. I dare not think it.
Anselm. Therefore man cannot and ought not by
any means to receive from God what God designed to
give him, unless he return to God everything which
he took from him ; so that, as by man God suffered
loss, by man, also, He might recover His loss. But
this cannot be effected except in this way : that, as in
the fall of man all human nature was corrupted, and,
as it were, tainted with sin, and God will not choose
one of such a race to fill up the number in his heav
enly kingdom ; so, by man's victory, as many men
may be justified from sin as are needed to complete
the number which man was made to fill. But a sinful
man can by no means do this, for a sinner cannot jus
tify a sinner.
CUR DEUS HOMO. 233
Boso. There is nothing more just or necessary;
but, from all these things, the compassion of God and
the hope of man seems to fail, as far as regards that
happiness for which man was made.
Anselm. Yet wait a little.
Boso. Have you anything further?
CHAPTER XXIV.
How, as long as man does not restore what he owes God, he can
not be happy, nor is he excused by want of power.
Anselm. If a man is called unjust who does not
pay his fellow-man a debt, much more is he unjust
who does not restore what he owes God.
Boso. If he can pay and yet does not, he is cer
tainly unjust. But if he be not able, wherein is he
unjust?
Anselm. Indeed, if the origin of his inability were
not in himself, there might be some excuse for him.
But if in this very impotence lies the fault, as it does
not lessen the sin, neither does it excuse him from
paying what is due. Suppose one should assign his
slave a certain piece of work, and should command
him not to throw himself into a ditch, which he points
out to him and from which he could not extricate
himself; and suppose that the slave, despising his
master's command and warning, throws himself into
the ditch before pointed out, so as to be utterly un
able to accomplish the work assigned ; think you that
his inability will at all excuse him for not doing his
appointed work?
Boso. By no means, but will rather increase his
crime, since he brought his inability upon himself.
For doubly hath he sinned, in not doing what he was
234 ANSELM.
commanded to do and in doing what he was fore
warned not to do.
Anselm. Just so inexcusable is man, who has vol
untarily brought upon himself a debt which he cannot
pay, and by his own fault disabled himself, so that he
can neither escape his previous obligation not to sin,
nor pay the debt which he has incurred by sin. For
his very inability is guilt, because he ought not to
have it; nay, he ought to be free from it; for as it is
a crime not to have what he ought, it is also a crime
to have what he ought not. Therefore, as it is a crime
in man not to have that power which he received to
avoid sin, it is also a crime to have that inability by
which he can neither do right and avoid sin, nor re
store the debt which he owes on account of his sin.
For it is by his own free action that he loses that
power, and falls into this inability. For not to have
the power which one ought to have, is the same thing
as to have the inability which one ought not to have.
Therefore man's inability to restore what he owes to
God, an inability brought upon himself for that very
purpose, does not excuse man from paying ; for the
result of sin cannot excuse the sin itself.
Boso. This argument is exceedingly weighty, and
must be true.
Anselm. Man, then, is unjust in not paying what
he owes to God.
Boso. This is very true ; for he is unjust, both in
not paying, and in not being able to pay.
Anselm. But no unjust person shall be admitted to
happiness; for as that happiness is complete in which
there is nothing wanting, so it can belong to no one
who is not so pure as to have no injustice found in
him.
CUR DEUS HOMO. 235
Boso. I dare not think otherwise.
Anselm. He, then, who does not pay God what he
owes can never be happy.
Boso, I cannot deny that this is so.
Anselm. But if you choose to say that a merciful
God remits to the suppliant his debt, because he can
not pay; God must be said to dispense with one of
two things, viz., either this which man ought volun
tarily to render but cannot, that is, an equivalent for
his sin, a thing which ought not to be given up even
to save the whole universe besides God ; or else this,
which, as I have before said, God was about to take
away from man by punishment, even against man's
will, viz., happiness. But if God gives up what man
ought freely to render, for the reason that man cannot
repay it, what is this but saying that God gives up
what he is unable to obtain? But it is mockery to
ascribe such compassion to God. But if God gives
up what he was about to take from unwilling man,
because man is unable to restore what he ought to
restore freely, He abates the punishment and makes
man happy on account of his sin, because he has what
he ought not to have. For he ought not to have this
inability, and therefore as long as he has it without
atonement it is his sin. And truly such compassion
on the part of God is wholly contrary to the Divine
justice, which allows nothing but punishment as the
recompense of sin. Therefore, as God cannot be in
consistent with himself, his compassion cannot be of
this nature.
Boso. I think, then, we must look for another
mercy than this.
Anselm. But suppose it were true that God par-
236 ANSELM.
dons the man who does not pay his debt because he
cannot.
Boso. I could wish it were so.
Ansclm. But while man does not make payment,
he either wishes to restore, or else he does not wish
to- Now, if he wishes to do what he cannot, he will
be needy, and if he does not wish to, he will be un
just.
Boso. Nothing can be plainer.
Anselm. But whether needy or unjust, he will not
be happy.
Boso. This also is plain.
Anselm. So long, then, as he does not restore, he
will not be happy.
Boso. If God follows the method of justice, there
is no escape for the miserable wretch, and God's com
passion seems to fail.
Anselm. You have demanded an explanation ; now
hear it. I do not deny that God is merciful, who pre-
serveth man and beast, according to the multitude of
his mercies. But we are speaking of that exceeding
pity by which he makes man happy after this life.
And I think that I have amply proved, by the reasons
given above, that happiness ought not to be bestowed
upon any one whose sins have not been wholly put
away; and that this remission ought not to take place,
save by the payment of the debt incurred by sin, ac
cording to the extent of sin. And if you think that
any objections can be brought against these proofs,
you ought to mention them.
Boso. I see not how your reasons can be at all in
validated.
Anselm. Nor do I, if rightly understood. But even
if one of the whole number be confirmed by impreg-
CUR DEUS HOMO. 237
nable truth, that should be sufficient. For truth is
equally secured against all doubt, if it be demonstrably
proved by one argument as by many.
Boso. Surely this is so. But how, then, shall man
be saved, if he neither pays what he owes, and ought
not to be saved without paying? Or, with what face
shall we declare that God, who is rich in mercy above
human conception, cannot exercise this compassion?
Anselm, This is the question which you ought to
ask of those in whose behalf you are speaking, who
have no faith in the need of Christ for man's salva»
tion, and you should also request them to tell how
man can be saved without Christ. But, if they are
utterly unable to do it, let them cease from mocking
us, and let them hasten to unite themselves with us,
who do not doubt that man can be saved through
Christ ; else let them despair of being saved at all.
And if this terrifies them, let them believe in Christ
as we do, that they may be saved.
Boso. Let me ask you, as I have begun, to show
me how a man is saved by Christ.
CHAPTER XXV.
How man's salvation by Christ is necessarily possible.
Anselm. Is it not sufficiently proved that man can
be saved by Christ, when even infidels do not deny
that man can be happy somehow, and it has been
sufficiently shown that, leaving Christ out of view, no
salvation can be found for man? For, either by Christ
or by some one else can man be saved, or else not at
all. If, then, it is false that man cannot be saved at
all, or that he can be saved in any other way, his sal
vation must necessarily be by Christ.
338 ANSELM.
Boso. But what reply will you make to a person
who perceives that man cannot be saved in any other
way, and yet, not understanding how he can be saved
by Christ, sees fit to declare that there cannot be any
salvation either by Christ or in any other way?
Anselm. What reply ought to be made to one who
ascribes impossibility to a necessary truth, because
he does not understand how it can be?
Boso. That he is a fool.
Anselm. Then what he says must be despised.
Boso. Very true; but we ought to show him in
what way the thing is true which he holds to be im
possible.
Anselm. Do you not perceive, from what we have
said above, that it is necessary for some men to attain
to felicity? For, if it is unfitting for God to elevate
man with any stain upon him, to that for which he
made him free from all stain, lest it should seem that
God had repented of his good intent, or was unable
to accomplish his designs; far more is it impossible,
on account of the same unfitness, that no man should
be exalted to that state for which he was made.
Therefore, a satisfaction such as we have above
proved necessary for sin, must be found apart from
the Christian faith, which no reason can show; or
else we must accept the Christian doctrine. For what
is clearly made out by absolute reasoning ought by no
means to be questioned, even though the method of
it be not understood.
Boso. What you say is true.
Anselm. Why, then, do you question further?-
Boso. I come not for this purpose, to have you re
move doubts from my faith, but to have you show me
the reason for my confidence. Therefore, as you have
CUR DEUS HOMO. 239
brought me thus far by your reasoning, so that I per
ceive that man as a sinner owes God for his sin what
he is unable to pay, and cannot be saved without pay
ing ; I wish you would go further with me, and enable
me to understand, by force of reasoning, the fitness of
all those things which the Catholic faith enjoins upon
us with regard to Christ, if we hope to be saved ; and
how they avail for the salvation of man, and how God
saves man by compassion; when he never remits his
sin, unless man shall have rendered what was due on
account of his sin. And, to make your reasoning the
clearer, begin at the beginning, so as to rest it upon
a strong foundation.
Anselm. Now God help me, for you do not spare
me in the least, nor consider the weakness of my skill,
when you enjoin so great a work upon me. Yet I will
attempt it, as I have begun, not trusting in myself
but in God, and will do what I can with his help.
But let us separate the things which remain to be said
from those which have been said, by a new introduc
tion, lest by their unbroken length, these things be
come tedious to one who wishes to read them.
BOOK SECOND.
CHAPTER I.
How man was made holy by God, so as to be happy in the enjoy
ment of God.
Anselm. It ought not to be disputed that rational
nature was made holy by God, in order to be happy
in enjoying Him. For to this end is it rational, in
order to discern justice and injustice, good and evil,
and between the greater and the lesser good. Other-
240 ANSELM.
wise it was made rational in vain. But God made it
not rational in vain. Wherefore, doubtless, it was
made rational for this end. In like manner is it proved
that the intelligent creature received the power of
discernment for this purpose, that he might hate and
shun evil, and love and choose good, and especially
the greater good. For else in vain would God have
given him that power of discernment, since man's dis
cretion would be useless unless he loved and avoided
according to it. But it does not befit God to give
such power in vain. It is, therefore, established that
rational nature was created for this end, viz., to love
and choose the highest good supremely, for its own
sake and nothing else ; for if the highest good were
chosen for any other reason, then something else and
not itself would be the thing loved. But intelligent
nature cannot fulfil this purpose without being holy.
Therefore that it might not in vain be made rational,
it was made, in order to fulfil this purpose, both ra
tional and holy. Now, if it was made holy in order
to choose and love the highest good, then it was made
such in order to follow sometimes what it loved and
chose, or else it was not. But if it were not made
holy for this end, that it might follow what it loves
and chooses, then in vain was it made to love and
choose holiness; and there can be no reason why it
should be ever bound to follow holiness. Therefore,
as long as it will be holy in loving and choosing the
supreme good, for which it was made, it will be miser
able; because it will be impotent despite of its will,
inasmuch as it does not have what it desires. But
this is utterly absurd. Wherefore rational nature was
made holy, in order to be happy in enjoying the su
preme good, which is God. Therefore man, whose
CUR DEUS HOMO. 241
nature is rational, was made holy for this end, that he
might be happy in enjoying God.
CHAPTER II.
How man would never have died, unless he had sinned.
Anselm. Moreover, it is easily proved that man
was so made as not to be necessarily subject to death;
for, as we have already said, it is inconsistent with
God's wisdom and justice to compel man to suffer
death without fault, when he made him holy to enjoy
eternal blessedness. It therefore follows that had man
never sinned he never would have died.
CHAPTER III.
How man will rise with the same body which he has in this world.
Anselm. From this the future resurrection of the
dead is clearly proved. For if man is to be perfectly
restored, the restoration should make him such as he
would have been had he never sinned.
Boso. It must be so.
Anselm. Therefore, as man, had he not sinned,
was to have been transferred with the same body to
an immortal state, so when he shall be restored, it
must properly be with his own body as he lived in
this world.
Boso. But what shall we say to one who tells us
that this is right enough with regard to those in whom
humanity shall be perfectly restored, but is not neces
sary as respects the reprobate?
Anselm. We know of nothing more just or proper
than this, that as man, had he continued in holiness,
would have been perfectly happy for eternity, both in
242 ANSELM.
body and in soul; so, if he persevere in wickedness,
he shall be likewise completely miserable forever.
Boso. You have promptly satisfied me in these
matters.
CHAPTER IV.
How God will complete, in respect to human nature, what he has
begun.
Anselm. From these things, we can easily see that
God will either complete what he has begun with re
gard to human nature, or else he has made to no end
so lofty a nature, capable of so great good. Now if it
be understood that God has made nothing more val
uable than rational existence capable of enjoying
him; it is altogether foreign from his character to
suppose that he will suffer that rational existence
utterly to perish.
Boso, No reasonable being can think otherwise.
Anselm. Therefore is it necessary for him to per
fect in human nature what he has begun. But this,
as we have already said, cannot be accomplished save
by a complete expiation of sin, which no sinner can
effect for himself.
Boso. I now understand it to be necessary for God
to complete what he has begun, lest there be an un
seemly falling off from his design.
CHAPTER V.
How, although the thing may be necessary, God may not do it by
a compulsory necessity ; and what is the nature of that neces
sity which removes or lessens gratitude, and what necessity
increases it.
Boso. But if it be so, then God seems as it were
compelled, for the sake of avoiding what is unbecom-
CUR DEUS HOMO. 243
ing, to secure the salvation of man. How, then, can
it be denied that he does it more on his own account
than on ours? But if it be so, what thanks do we owe
him for what he does for himself? How shall we at
tribute our salvation to his grace, if he saves us from
necessity?
Anselm. There is a necessity which takes away or
lessens our gratitude to a benefactor, and there is also
a necessity by which the favor deserves still greater
thanks. For when one does a benefit from a neces
sity to which he is unwillingly subjected, less thanks
are due him, or none at all. But when he freely places
himself under the necessity of benefiting another, and
sustains that necessity without reluctance, then he
certainly deserves greater thanks for the favor. For
this should not be called necessity but grace, inas
much as he undertook or maintains it, not with any
constraint, but freely. For if that which to-day you
promise of your own accord you will give to-morrow,
you do give to-morrow with the same willingness;
though it be necessary for you, if possible, to redeem
your promise, or make yourself a liar ; notwithstand
ing, the recipient of your favor is as much indebted
for your precious gift as if you had not promised it,
for you were not obliged to make yourself his debtor
before the time of giving it : just so is it when one
undertakes, by a vow, a design of holy living. For
though after his vow he ought necessarily to perform,
lest he suffer the judgment of an apostate, and,
although he may be compelled to keep it even unwill
ingly, yet, if he keep his vow cheerfully, he is not less
but more pleasing to God than if he had not vowed.
For he has not only given up the life of the world,
but also his personal liberty, for the sake of God ; and
244 ANSELM.
he cannot be said to live a holy life of necessity, but
with the same freedom with which he took the vow.
Much more, therefore, do we owe all thanks to God
for completing his intended favor to man ; though,
indeed, it would not be proper for him to fail in his
good design, because wanting nothing in himself he
begun it for our sake and not his own. For what man
was about to do was not hidden from God at his crea
tion ; and yet by freely creating man, God as it were
bound himself to complete the good which he had be
gun. In fine, God does nothing by necessity, since
he is not compelled or restrained in anything. And
when we say that God does anything to avoid dis
honor, which he certainly does not fear, we must mean
that God does this from the necessity of maintaining
his honor; which necessity is after all no more than
this, viz., the immutability of his honor, which be
longs to him in himself, and is not derived from an
other ; and therefore it is not properly called neces
sity. Yet we may say, although the whole work which
God does for man is of grace, that it is necessary for
God, on account of his unchangeable goodness, to
complete the work which he has begun.
Boso. I grant it.
CHAPTER VI.
How no being, except the God-man, can make the atonement by
which man is saved.
Anselm. But this cannot be effected, except the
price paid to God for the sin of man be something
greater than all the universe besides God.
Boso. So it appears.
Anselm. Moreover, it is necessary that he who can
CUR DEUS HOMO. 245
give God anything of his own which is more valuable
than all things in the possession of God, must be
greater than all else but God himself.
Boso. I cannot deny it.
Anselm. Therefore none but God can make this
satisfaction.
Boso. So it appears.
Anselm. But none but a man ought to do this,
other wise man does not make the satisfaction.
Boso. Nothing seems more just.
Anselm. If it be necessary, therefore, as it appears,
that the heavenly kingdom be made up of men, and
this cannot be effected unless the aforesaid satisfac
tion be made, which none but God can make and none
but man ought to make, it is necessary for the God-
man to make it.
Boso. Now blessed be God ! we have made a great
discovery with regard to our question. Go on, there
fore, as you have begun. For I hope that God will
assist you.
Anselm. Now must we inquire how God can be
come man.
CHAPTER VII.
How necessary it is for the same being to be perfect God and per
fect man.
Anselm. The Divine and human natures cannot
alternate, so that the Divine should become human
or the human Divine ; nor can they be so commingled
as that a third should be produced from the two which
is neither wholly Divine nor wholly human. For,
granting that it were possible for either to be changed
into the other, it would in that case be only God and
not man, or man only and not God. Or, if they were
246 ANSELM.
so commingled that a third nature sprung from the
combination of the two (as from two animals, a male
and a female of different species, a third is produced,
which does not preserve entire the species of either
parent, but has a mixed nature derived from both), it
would neither be God nor man. Therefore the God-
man, whom we require to be of a nature both human
and Divine, cannot be produced by a change from
one into the other, nor by an imperfect commingling
of both in a third; since these things cannot be, or,
if they could be, would avail nothing to our purpose.
Moreover, if these two complete natures are said to be
joined somehow, in such a way that one may be Di
vine while the other is human, and yet that wbich is
God not be the same with that which is man, it is im
possible for both to do the work necessary to be ac
complished. For God will not do it, because he has
no debt to pay; and man will not do it, because he
cannot. Therefore, in order that the God-man may
perform this, it is necessary that the same being should
be perfect God and perfect man, in order to make
this atonement. For he cannot and ought not to do
it, unless he be very God and very man. Since, then,
it is necessary that the God-man preserve the com
pleteness of each nature, it is no less necessary that
these two natures be united entire in one person, just
as a body and a reasonable soul exist together in every
human being ; for otherwise it is impossible that the
same being should be very God and very man.
Boso. All that you say is satisfactory to me.
CUR DEUS HOMO. 247
CHAPTER VIII.
How it behoved God to take a man of the race of Adam, and born
of a woman.
Anselm. It now remains to inquire whence and
how God shall assume human nature. For he will
either take it from Adam, or else he will make a new
man, as he made Adam originally. But, if he makes
a new man, not of Adam's race, then this man will
not belong to the human family, which descended
from Adam, and therefore ought not to make atone
ment for it, because he never belonged to it. For, as
it is right for man to make atonement for the sin of
man, it is also necessary that he who makes the atone
ment should be the very being who has sinned, or else
one of the same race. Otherwise, neither Adam nor
his race would make satisfaction for themselves.
Therefore, as through Adam and Kve sin was propa
gated among all men, so none but themselves, or one
born of them, ought to make atonement for the sin of
men. And, since they cannot, one born of them must
fulfil this work. Moreover, as Adam and his whole
race, had he not sinned, would have stood firm with
out the support of any other being, so, after the fall,
the same race must rise and be exalted by means of
itself. For, whoever restores the race to its place, it
will certainly stand by that being who has made this
restoration. Also, when God created human nature
in Adam alone, and would only make woman out of
man, that by the union of both sexes there might be
increase, in this he showed plainly that he wished to
produce all that he intended with regard to human
248 ANSELM.
nature from man alone. Wherefore, if the race of
Adam be reinstated by any being not of the same
race, it will not be restored to that dignity which it
would have had, had not Adam sinned, and so will
not be completely restored; and, besides, God will
seem to have failed of his purpose, both which sup
positions are incongruous. It is, therefore, necessary
that the man by whom Adam's race shall be restored
be taken from Adam.
Boso. If we follow reason, as we proposed to do,
this is the necessary result.
Anselm. Let us now examine the question, whether
the human nature taken by God must be produced
from a father and mother, as other men are, or from
man alone, or from woman alone. For, in whichever
of these three modes it be, it will be produced from
Adam and Eve, for from these two is every person
of either sex descended. And of these three modes,
no one is easier for God than another, that it should
be selected on this account.
Boso. So far, it is well.
Anselm. It is no great toil to show that that man
will be brought into existence in a nobler and purer
manner, if produced from man alone, or woman alone,
than if springing from the union of both, as do all
other men.
Boso. I agree with you.
Anselm. Therefore must he be taken either from
man alone, or woman alone.
Boso. There is no other source.
Anselm. In four ways can God create man, viz.,
either of man and woman, in the common way; or
neither of man nor woman, as he created Adam ; or
of man without woman, as he made Eve; or of woman
CUR DEUS HOMO. 249
without man, which thus far he has never done.
Wherefore, in order to show that this last mode is
also under his power, and was reserved for this very
purpose, what more fitting than that he should take
that man whose origin we are seeking from a woman
without a man? Now whether it be more worthy that
he be born of a virgin, or one not a virgin, we need
not discuss, but must affirm, beyond all doubt, that
the God-man should be born of a virgin.
Boso. Your speech gratifies my heart.
Ansclm. Does what we have said appear sound, or
is it unsubstantial as a cloud, as you have said infidels
declare?
Boso. Nothing can be more sound.
Ansclm. Paint not, therefore, upon baseless empti
ness, but upon solid truth, and tell how clearly fitting
it is that, as man's sin and the cause of our condemna
tion sprung from a woman, so the cure of sin and the
source of our salvation should also be found in a
woman. And that women may not despair of attain
ing the inheritance of the blessed, because that so
dire an evil arose from woman, it is proper that from
woman also so great a blessing should arise, that their
hopes may be revived. Take also this view. If it
was a virgin which brought all evil upon the human
race, it is much more appropriate that a virgin should
be the occasion of all good. And this also. If woman,
whom God made from man alone, was made of a vir
gin (de virgine}, it is peculiarly fitting for that man
also, who shall spring from a woman, to be born of a
woman without man. Of the pictures which can be
superadded to this, showing that the God-man ought
to be born of a virgin, we will say nothing. These are
sufficient.
250 ANSELM.
Boso. They are certainly very beautiful and rea
sonable.
CHAPTER IX.
How of necessity the Word only can unite in one person with
man.
Anselm. Now must we inquire further, in what
person God, who exists in three persons, shall take
upon himself the nature of man. For a plurality of
persons cannot take one and the same man into a
unity of person. Wherefore in one person only can
this be done. But, as respects this personal unity of
God and man, and in which of the Divine persons
this ought to be effected, I have expressed myself, as
far as I think needful for the present inquiry, in a let
ter on the Incarnation of the Word, addressed to my
lord, the Pope Urban.
Boso. Yet briefly glance at this matter, why the
person of the Son should be incarnated rather than
that of the Father or the Holy Spirit.
Anselm. If one of the other persons be incarnated,
there will be two sons in the Trinity, viz., the Son of
God, who is the Son before the incarnation, and he
also who, by the incarnation, will be the son of the
virgin; and among the persons which ought always
to be equal there will be an inequality as respects the
dignity of birth. For the one born of God will have
a nobler birth than he who is born of the virgin. Like
wise, if the Father become incarnate, there will be
two grandsons in the Trinity; for the Father, by as
suming humanity, will be the grandson of the parents
of the virgin, and the Word, though having nothing
to do with man, will yet be the grandson of the vir
gin, since he will be the son of her son. But all these
CUR DEUS HOMO. 25!
things are incongruous and do not pertain to the in
carnation of the Word. And there is yet another rea
son which renders it more fitting for the Son to be
come incarnate than the other persons. It is, that
for the Son to pray to the Father is more proper than
for any other person of the Trinity to supplicate his
fellow. Moreover, man, for whom he was to pray,
and the devil, whom he was to vanquish, have both
put on a false likeness to God by their own will.
Wherefore they have sinned, as it were, especially
against the person of the Son, who is believed to be
the very image of God. Wherefore the punishment
or pardon of guilt is with peculiar propriety ascribed
to him upon whom chiefly the injury was inflicted.
Since, therefore, infallible reason has brought us to
this necessary conclusion, that the Divine and human
natures must unite in one person, and that this is evi
dently more fitting in respect to the person of the
Word than the other persons, we determine that God
the Word must unite with man in one person.
Boso. The way by which you lead me is so guarded
by reason that I cannot deviate from it to the right or
left.
Anselm. It is not I who lead you, but he of whom
we are speaking, without whose guidance we have no
power to keep the way of truth.
CHAPTER X.
How this man dies not of debt ; and in what sense he can or can
not sin ; and how neither he nor an angel deserves praise for
their holiness, if it is impossible for them to sin.
Anselm. We ought not to question whether this
man was about to die as a debt, as all other men do.
252 ANSELM.
For, if Adam would not have died had he not com
mitted sin, much less should this man suffer death, in
whom there can be no sin, for he is God.
Boso. Let me delay you a little on this point. For
in either case it is no slight question with me whether
it be said that he can sin or that he cannot. For if it
be said that he cannot sin, it should seem hard to be
believed. For to say a word concerning him, not as
of one who never existed in the manner we have
spoken hitherto, but as of one whom we know and
whose deeds we know ; who, I say, will deny that he
could have done many things which we call sinful?
For, to say nothing of other things, how shall we say
that it was not possible for him to commit the sin of
lying? For, when he says to the Jews, of his Father:
"If I say that I know him not, I shall be a liar, like
unto you," and, in this sentence, makes use of the
words: "I know him not," who says that he could
not have uttered these same four words, or express
ing the same thing differently, have declared, "I know
him not? " Now had he done so, he would have been
a liar, as he himself says, and therefore a sinner.
Therefore, since he could do this, he could sin.
Anselm. It is true that he could say this, and also
that he could not sin.
Boso. How is that?
Anselm. All power follows the will. For, when I
say that I can speak or walk, it is understood, if I
choose. For, if the will be not implied as acting,
there is no power, but only necessity. For, when I
say that I can be dragged or bound unwillingly, this
is not my power, but necessity and the power of an
other ; since I am able to be dragged or bound in no
other sense than this, that another can drag or bind
CUR DEUS HOMO. 253
me. So we can say of Christ, that he could lie, so
long as we understand, if he chose to do so. And,
since he could not lie unwillingly and could not wish
to lie, none the less can it be said that he could not
lie. So in this way it is both true that he could and
could not lie.
Boso. Now let us return to our original inquiry
with regard to that man, as if nothing were known of
him. I say, then, if he were unable to sin, because,
according to you, he could not wish to sin, he main
tains holiness of necessity, and therefore he will not
be holy from free will. What thanks, then, will he de
serve for his holiness? For we are accustomed to say
that God made man and angel capable of sinning on
this account, that, when of their own free will they
maintained holiness, though they might have aban
doned it, they might deserve commendation and re
ward, which they would not have done had they been
necessarily holy.
Anselm. Are not the angels worthy of praise,
though unable to commit sin?
Boso. Doubtless they are, because they deserved
this present inability to sin from the fact that when
they could sin they refused to do so.
Anselm. What say you with respect to God, who
cannot sin, and yet has not deserved this, by refusing
to sin when he had the power? Must not he be
praised for his holiness?
Boso. I should like to have you answer that ques
tion for me ; for if I say that he deserves no praise, I
know that I speak falsely. If, on the other hand, I
say that he does deserve praise, I am afraid of in
validating my reasoning with respect to the angels.
Anselm. The angels are not to be praised for their
254 ANSELM.
holiness because they could sin, but because it is
owing to themselves, in a certain sense, that now they
cannot sin. And in this respect are they in a measure
like God, who has, from himself, whatever he pos
sesses. For a person is said to give a thing, who does
not take it away when he can ; and to do a thing is
but the same as not to prevent it, when that is in one's
power. When, therefore, the angel could depart from
holiness and yet did not, and could make himself un
holy yet did not, we say with propriety that he con
ferred virtue upon himself and made himself holy. In
this sense, therefore, has he holiness of himself (for
the creature cannot have it of himself in any other
way), and, therefore, should be praised for his holi
ness, because he is not holy of necessity but freely;
for that is improperly called necessity which involves
neither compulsion nor restraint. Wherefore, since
whatever God has he has perfectly of himself, he is
most of all to be praised for the good things which he
possesses and maintains not by any necessity, but, as
before said, by his own infinite unchangeableness.
Therefore, likewise, that man who will be also God,
since every good thing which he possesses comes from
himself, will be holy not of necessity but voluntarily,
and, therefore, will deserve praise. For, though hu
man nature will have what it has from the Divine na
ture, yet it will likewise have it from itself, since the
two natures will be united in one person.
Boso. You have satisfied me on this point ; and I
see clearly that it is both true that he could not sin,
and yet that he deserves praise for his holiness. But
now I think the question arises, since God could make
such a man, why he did not create angels and our
CUR DEUS HOMO. 255
first parents so as to be incapable of sin, and yet
praiseworthy for their holiness?
Anselm. Do you know what you are saying?
Boso. I think I understand, and it is therefore I
ask why he did not make them so.
Anselm. Because it was neither possible nor right
for any one of them to be the same with God, as we
say that man was. And if you ask why he did not
bring the three persons, or at least the Word, into
unity with men at that time, I answer : Because rea
son did not at all demand any such thing then, but
wholly forbade it, for God does nothing without rea
son.
Boso. I blush to have asked the question. Go on
with what you have to say.
Anselm. We must conclude, then, that he should
not be subject to death, inasmuch as he will not be a
sinner.
Boso. I must agree with you.
CHAPTER XI.
How Christ dies of his own power, and how mortality does not in
here in the essential nature of man.
Anselm. Now, also, it remains to inquire whether,
as man's nature is, it is possible for that man to die?
Boso. We need hardly dispute with regard to this,
since he will be really man, and every man is by na
ture mortal.
Anselm. I do not think mortality inheres in the
essential nature of man, but only as corrupted. Since,
had man never sinned, and had his immortality been
unchangeably confirmed, he would have been as really
man ; and, when the dying rise again, incorruptible,
256 ANSELM.
they will no less be really men. For, if mortality was
an essential attribute of human nature, then he who
was immortal could not be man. Wherefore, neither
corruption nor incorruption belong essentially to hu
man nature, for neither makes nor destroys a man ;
but happiness accrues to him from the one, and misery
from the other. But since all men die, mortality is
included in the definition of man, as given by philos
ophers, for they have never even believed in the pos
sibility of man's being immortal in all respects. And
so it is not enough to prove that that man ought to be
subject to death, for us to say that he will be in all
respects a man.
Boso. Seek then for some other reason, since I
know of none, if you do not, by which we may prove
that he can die.
Anselm. We may not doubt that, as he will be
God, he will possess omnipotence.
Boso. Certainly.
Anselm. He can, then, if he chooses, lay down his
life and take it again.
Boso. If not, he would scarcely seem to be omnip
otent.
Anselm. Therefore is he able to avoid death if he
chooses, and also to die and rise again. Moreover,
whether he lays down his life by the intervention of
no other person, or another causes this, so that he
lays it down by permitting it to be taken, it makes no
difference as far as regards his power.
Boso. There is no doubt about it
Anselm. If, then, he chooses to allow it, he could
be slain ; and if he were unwilling to allow it, he
could not be slain.
CUR DEUS HOMO. 257
Boso. To this we are unavoidably brought by rea
son.
Ansclm. Reason has also taught us that the gift
which he presents to God, not of debt but freely,
ought to be something greater than anything in the
possession of God.
Boso. Yes.
Anselm. Now this can neither be found beneath
him nor above him.
Boso. Very true.
Anselm. In himself, therefore, must it be found.
Boso. So it appears.
Anselm. Therefore will he give himself, or some
thing pertaining to himself.
Boso. I cannot see how it should be otherwise.
Anselm. Now must we inquire what sort of a gift
this should be? For he may not give himself to God,
or anything of his, as if God did not have what was
his own. For every creature belongs to God.
Boso. This is so.
Anselm. Therefore must this gift be understood in
this way, that he somehow gives up himself, or some
thing of his, to the honor of God, which he did not
owe as a debtor.
Boso. So it seems from what has been already
said.
Anselm. If we say that he will give himself to God
by obedience, so as, by steadily maintaining holiness,
to render himself subject to his will, this will not be
giving a thing not demanded of him by God as his
due. For every reasonable being owes his obedience
to God.
Boso. This cannot be denied.
Anselm. Therefore must it be in some other way
258 ANSELM.
that he gives himself, or something belonging to him,
to God.
Boso. Reason urges us to this conclusion.
Anslem. Let us see whether, perchance, this may
be to give up his life or to lay down his life, or to de
liver himself up to death for God's honor. For God
will not demand this of him as a debt; for, as no sin
will be found, he ought not to die, as we have already
said.
Boso. Else I cannot understand it.
Ansclm. But let us further observe whether this is
according to reason.
Boso. Speak you, and I will listen with pleasure.
Anselm. If man sinned with ease, is it not fitting
for him to atone with difficulty? And if he was over
come by the devil in the easiest manner possible, so
as to dishonor God by sinning against him, is it not
right that man, in making satisfaction for his sin,
should honor God by conquering the devil with the
greatest possible difficulty? Is it not proper that,
since man has departed from God as far as possible
in his sin, he should make to God the greatest pos
sible satisfaction?
Boso. Surely, there is nothing more reasonable.
Anselm. Now, nothing can be more severe or diffi
cult for man to do for God's honor, than to suffer
death voluntarily when not bound by obligation ; and
man cannot give himself to God in any way more truly
than by surrendering himself to death for God's honor.
Boso. All these things are true.
Anselm. Therefore, he who wishes to make atone
ment for man's sin should be one who can die if he
chooses.
Boso. I think it is plain that the man whom we
CUR DEUS HOMO. 259
seek for should not only be one who is not necessarily
subject to death on account of his omnipotence, and
one who does not deserve death on account of his sin,
but also one who can die of his own free will, for this
will be necessary.
Anselm. There are also many other reasons why it
is peculiarly fitting for that man to enter into the
common intercourse of men, and maintain a likeness
to them, only without sin. And these things are more
easily and clearly manifest in his life and actions than
they can possibly be shown to be by mere reason
without experience. For who can say how necessary
and wise a thing it was for him who was to redeem
mankind, and lead them back by his teaching from
the way of death and destruction into the path of life
and eternal happiness, when he conversed with men,
and when he taught them by personal intercourse, to
set them an example himself of the way in which they
ought to live? But how could he have given this ex
ample to weak and dying men, that they should not
deviate from holiness because of injuries, or scorn, or
tortures, or even death, had they not been able to
recognise all these virtues in himself?
CHAPTER XII.
How, though he share in our weakness, he is not therefore miser
able.
Boso. All these things plainly show that he ought
to be mortal and to partake of our weaknesses. But
all these things are our miseries. Will he then be
miserable?
Anselm. No, indeed ! For as no advantage which
one has apart from his choice constitutes happiness,
260 ANSELM.
so there is no misery in choosing to bear a loss, when
the choice is a wise one and made without compul
sion.
Boso. Certainly, this must be allowed.
CHAPTER XIII.
How, along with our other weaknesses, he does not partake of our
ignorance.
Boso. But tell me whether, in this likeness to men
which he ought to have, he will inherit also our ignor
ance, as he does our other infirmities?
Anselm. Do you doubt the omnipotence of God?
Boso. No ! but, although this man be immortal in
respect to his Divine nature, yet will he be mortal in
his human nature. For why will he not be like them
in their ignorance, as he is in their mortality?
Anselm. That union of humanity with the Divine
person will not be effected except in accordance with
the highest wisdom ; and, therefore, God will not take
anything belonging to man which is only useless, but
even a hindrance to the work which that man must
accomplish. For ignorance is in no respect useful,
but very prejudicial. How can he perform works, so
many and so great, without the highest wisdom? Or,
how will men believe him if they find him ignorant?
And if he be ignorant, what will it avail him? If noth
ing is loved except as it is known, and there be no
good thing which he does not love, then there can be
no good thing of which he is ignorant. But no one
perfectly understands good, save he who can distin
guish it from evil; and no one can make this distinc
tion who does not know what evil is. Therefore, as
he of whom we are speaking perfectly comprehends
CUR DEUS HOMO. 26l
what is good, so there can be no evil with which he
is unacquainted. Therefore must he have all knowl
edge, though he do not openly show it in his inter
course with men.
Boso. In his more mature years, this should seem
to be as you say ; but, in infancy, as it will not be a
fit time to discover wisdom, so there will be no need,
and therefore no propriety, in his having it.
Anselm. Did not I say that the incarnation will be
made in wisdom? But God will in wisdom assume
that mortality, which he makes use of so widely, be
cause for so great an object. But he could not wisely
assume ignorance, for this is never useful, but always
injurious, except when an evil will is deterred from
acting, on account of it. But, in him an evil desire
never existed. For if ignorance did no harm in any
other respect, yet does it in this, that it takes away
the good of knowing. And to answer your question
in a word : that man, from the essential nature of his
being, will be always full of God ; and, therefore, will
never want the power, the firmness or the wisdom of
God.
Boso, Though wholly unable to doubt the truth of
this with respect to Christ, yet, on this very account,
have I asked for the reason of it. For we are often
certain about a thing, and yet cannot prove it by rea
son.
CHAPTER XIV.
How his death outweighs the number and greatness of our sins.
Boso. Now I ask you to tell me how his death can
outweigh the number and magnitude of our sins, when
the least sin we can think of you have shown to be so
monstrous that, were there an infinite number of
262 ANSELM.
worlds as full of created existence as this, they could
not stand, but would fall back into nothing, sooner
than one look should be made contrary to the just
will of God.
Anselm. Were that man here before you, and you
knew who he was, and it were told you that, if you
did not kill him, the whole universe, except God,
would perish, would you do it to preserve the rest of
creation?
Boso. No ! not even were an infinite number of
worlds displayed before me.
Anselm. But suppose you were told: "If you do
not kill him, all the sins of the world will be heaped
upon you."
Boso. I should answer, that I would far rather bear
all other sins, not only those of this world, past and
future, but also all others that can be conceived of,
than this alone. And I think I ought to say this, not
only with regard to killing him, but even as to the
slightest injury which could be inflicted on him.
Anselm. You judge correctly; but tell me why it
is that your heart recoils from one injury inflicted
upon him as more heinous than all other sins that can
be thought of, inasmuch as all sins whatsoever are
committed against him?
Boso. A sin committed upon his person exceeds
beyond comparison all the sins which can be thought
of, that do not affect his person.
Anselm. What say you to this, that one often suf
fers freely certain evils in his person, in order not to
surfer greater ones in his property?
Boso. God has no need of such patience, for all
things lie in subjection to his power, as you answered
a certain question of mine above.
CUR DEUS HOMO. 263
Anselm. You say well ; and hence we see that no
enormity or multitude of sins, apart from the Divine
person, can for a moment be compared with a bodily
injury inflicted upon that man.
Boso. This is most plain.
Anselm. How great does this good seem to you, if
the destruction of it is such an evil?
Boso. If its existence is as great a good as its de
struction is an evil, then is it far more a good than
those sins are evils which its destruction so far sur
passes.
Anselm. Very true. Consider, also, that sins are
as hateful as they are evil, and that life is only amiable
in proportion as it is good. And, therefore, it follows
that that life is more lovely than sins are odious.
Boso. I cannot help seeing this.
Anselm. And do you not think that so great a good
in itself so lovely, can avail to pay what is due for the
sins of the whole world?
Boso. Yes ! it has even infinite value.
Anselm. Do you see, then, how this life conquers
all sins, if it be given for them?
Boso. Plainly.
Anselm. If, then, to lay down life is the same as to
suffer death, as the gift of his life surpasses all the
sins of men, so will also the suffering of death.
CHAPTER XV.
How this death removes even the sins of his murderers.
Boso. This is properly so with regard to all sins
not affecting the person of the Deity. But let me ask
you one thing more. If it be as great an evil to slay
him as his life is a good, how can his death overcome
264 ANSELM.
and destroy the sins of those who slew him? Or, if it
destroys the sin of any one of them, how can it not
also destroy any sin committed by other men? For
we believe that many men will be saved, and a vast
many will not be saved.
Anselm. The Apostle answers the question when
he says : " Had they known it, they would never have
crucified the Lord of glory." For a sin knowingly
committed and a sin done ignorantly are so different
that an evil which they could never do, were its full
extent known, may be pardonable when done in ignor
ance. For no man could ever, knowingly at least,
slay the Lord ; and, therefore, those who did it in
ignorance did not rush into that transcendental crime
with which none others can be compared. For this
crime, the magnitude of which we have been consider
ing as equal to the worth of his life, we have not
looked at as having been ignorantly done, but know
ingly; a thing which no man ever did or could do.
Boso. You have reasonably shown that the murder
ers of Christ can obtain pardon for their sin.
Anselm. What more do you ask? For now you
see how reason of necessity shows that the celestial
state must be made up from men, and that this can
only be by the forgiveness of sins, which man can
never have but by man, who must be at the same
time Divine, and reconcile sinners to God by his own
death. Therefore have we clearly found that Christ,
whom we confess to be both God and man, died for
us ; and, when this is known beyond all doubt, all
things which he says of himself must be acknowledged
as true, for God cannot lie, and all he does must be
received as wisely done, though we do not understand
the reason of it.
CUR DEUS HOMO. 265
Boso. What you say is true ; and I do not for a
moment doubt that his words are true, and all that he
does reasonable. But I ask this in order that you
may disclose to me, in their true rationality, those
things in Christian faith which seem to infidels im
proper or impossible; and this, not to strengthen me
in the faith, but to gratify one already confirmed by
the knowledge of the truth itself.
CHAPTER XVI.
How God took that man from a sinful substance, and yet without
sin ; and of the salvation of Adam and Eve.
Boso. As, therefore, you have disclosed the reason
of those things mentioned above, I beg you will also
explain what I am now about to ask. First, then,
how does God, from a sinful substance, that is, of
human species, which was wholly tainted by sin, take
a man without sin, as an unleavened lump from that
which is leavened? For, though the conception of
this man be pure, and free from the sin of fleshly
gratification, yet the virgin herself, from whom he
sprang, was conceived in iniquity, and in sin did her
mother bear her, since she herself sinned in Adam, in
whom all men sinned.
Anselm. Since it is fitting for that man to be God,
and also the restorer of sinners, we doubt not that he
is wholly without sin ; yet will this avail nothing, un
less he be taken without sin and yet of a sinful sub
stance. But if we cannot comprehend in what man
ner the wisdom of God effects this, we should be sur
prised, but with reverence should allow of a thing of
so great magnitude to remain hidden from us. For
the restoring of human nature by God is more wonder-
266 ANSELM.
ful than its creation ; for either was equally easy for
God ; but before man was made he had not sinned,
so that he ought not to be denied existence. But
after man was made he deserved, by his sin, to lose
his existence together with its design ; though he
never has wholly lost this, viz., that he should be one
capable of being punished, or of receiving God's com
passion. For neither of these things could take effect
if he were annihilated. Therefore God's restoring man
is more wonderful than his creating man, inasmuch as
it is done for the sinner contrary to his deserts; while
the act of creation was not for the sinner, and was not
in opposition to man's deserts. How great a thing it
is, also, for God and man to unite in one person, that,
while the perfection of each nature is preserved, the
same being may be both God and man ! Who, then,
will dare to think that the human mind can discover
how wisely, how wonderfully, so incomprehensible a
work has been accomplished?
Boso. I allow that no man can wholly discover so
great a mystery in this life, and I do not desire you
to do what no man can do, but only to explain it ac
cording to your ability. For you will sooner convince
me that deeper reasons lie concealed in this matter,
by showing some one that you know of, than if, by
saying nothing, you make it appear that you do not
understand any reason.
Anselm. I see that I cannot escape your importun
ity; but if I have any power to explain what you wish,
let us thank God for it. But if not, let the things
above said suffice. For, since it is agreed that God
ought to become man, no doubt He will not lack the
wisdom or the power to effect this without sin.
Boso, This I readily allow.
CUR DEUS HOMO. 267
Anselm. It was certainly proper that that atone
ment which Christ made should benefit not only those
who lived at that time but also others. For, suppose
there were a king against whom all the people of his
provinces had rebelled, with but a single exception of
those belonging to their race, and that all the rest
were irretrievably under condemnation. And suppose
that he who alone is blameless had so great favor
with the king, and so deep love for us, as to be both
able and willing to save all those who trusted in his
guidance ; and this because of a certain very pleasing
service which he was about to do for the king, accord
ing to his desire ; and, inasmuch as those who are to
be pardoned cannot all assemble upon that day, the
king grants, on account of the greatness of the service
performed, that whoever, either before or after the
day appointed, acknowledged that he wished to ob
tain pardon by the work that day accomplished, and
to subscribe to the condition there laid down, should
be freed from all past guilt ; and, if they sinned after
this pardon, and yet wished to render atonement and
to be set right again by the efficacy of this plan, they
should again be pardoned, only provided that no one
enter his mansion until this thing be accomplished by
which his sins are removed. In like manner, since
all who are to be saved cannot be present at the sacri
fice of Christ, yet such virtue is there in his death that
its power is extended even to those far remote in
place or time. But that it ought to benefit not merely
those present is plainly evident, because there could
not be so many living at the time of his death as are
necessary to complete the heavenly state, even if all
who were upon the earth at that time were admitted
to the benefits of redemption. For the number of evil
268 ANSELM.
angels which must be made up from men is greater
than the number of men at that time living. Nor may
we believe that, since man was created, there was
ever a time when the world, with the creatures made
for the use of man, was so unprofitable as to contain
no human being who had gained the object for which
he was made. For it seems unfitting that God should
even for a moment allow the human race, made to
complete the heavenly state, and those creatures which
he made for their use, to exist in vain.
Boso. You show by correct reasoning, such as
nothing can oppose, that there never was a time since
man was created when there has not been some one
who was gaining that reconciliation without which
every man was made in vain. So that we rest upon
this as not only proper but also necessary. For if
this is more fit and reasonable than that at any time
there should be no one found fulfilling the design for
which God made man, and there is no further objec
tion that can be made to this view, then it is neces
sary that there always be some person partaking of
this promised pardon. And, therefore, we must not
doubt that Adam and Eve obtained part in that for
giveness, though Divine authority makes no mention
of this.
Anselm. It is also incredible that God created them,
and unchangeably determined to make all men from
them, as many as were needed for the celestial state,
and yet should exclude these two from this design.
Boso. Nay, undoubtedly we ought to believe that
God made them for this purpose, viz., to belong to
the number of those for whose sake they were created.
Anselm. You understand it well. But no soul, be
fore the death of Christ, could enter the heavenly
CUR DEUS HOMO. 269
kingdom, as I said above, with regard to the palace
of the king.
Boso. So we believe.
Anselm. Moreover, the virgin, from whom that
man was taken of whom we are speaking, was of the
number of those who were cleansed from their sins
before his birth, and he was born of her in her purity.
Boso. What you say would satisfy me, were it not
that he ought to be pure of himself, whereas he ap
pears to have his purity from his mother and not from
himself.
Anselm. Not so. But as the mother's purity, which
he partakes, was only derived from him, he also was
pure by and of himself.
CHAPTER XVII.
How he did not die of necessity, though he could not be born, ex
cept as destined to suffer death.
Boso. Thus far it is well. But there is yet another
matter that needs to be looked into. For we have
said before that his death was not to be a matter of
necessity; yet now we see that his mother was puri
fied by the power of his death, when without this he
could not have been born of her. How, then, was
not his death necessary, when he could not have been,
except in view of future death? For if he were not to
die, the virgin of whom he was born could not be
pure, since this could only be effected by true faith in
his death, and, if she were not pure, he could not be
born of her. If, therefore, his death be not a neces
sary consequence of his being born of the virgin, he
never could have been born of her at all ; but this is
an absurdity.
270 ANSELM.
Anselm. If you had carefully noted the remarks
made above, you would easily have discovered in
them, I think, the answer to your question.
Boso . I see not how.
Anselm. Did we not find, when considering the
question whether he would lie, that there were two
senses of the word power in regard to it, the one re
ferring to his disposition, the other to the act itself ;
and that, though having the power to lie, he was so
constituted by nature as not to wish to lie, and, there
fore, deserved praise for his holiness in maintaining
the truth?
Boso. It is so.
Anselm. In like manner, with regard to the preser
vation of his life, there is the power of preserving and
the power of wishing to preserve it. And when the
question is asked whether the same God-man could
preserve his life, so as never to die, we must not
doubt that he always had the power to preserve his
life, though he could not wish to do so for the pur
pose of escaping death. And since this disposition,
which forever prevents him from wishing this, arises
from himself, he lays down his life not of necessity,
but of free authority.
Boso. But those powers were not in all respects
similar, the power to lie and the power to preserve
his life. For, if he wished to lie, he would of course
be able to ; but, if he wished to avoid the other, he
could no more do it than he could avoid being what
he is. For he became man for this purpose, and it
was on the faith of his coming death that he could re
ceive birth from a virgin, as you said above.
Anselm. As you think that he could not lie, or that
his death was necessary, because he could not avoid
CUR DEUS HOMO. 271
being what he was, so you can assert that he could
not wish to avoid death, or that he wished to die of
necessity, because he could not change the constitu
tion of his being ; for he did not become man in order
that he should die, any more than for this purpose,
that he should wish to die. Wherefore, as you ought
not to say that he could not help wishing to die, or
that it was of necessity that he wished to die, it is
equally improper to say that he could not avoid death,
or that he died of necessity.
Boso. Yes, since dying and wishing to die are in
cluded in the same mode of reasoning, both would
seem to fall under a like necessity.
Ansclm. Who freely wished to become man, that
by the same unchanging desire he should suffer death,
and that the virgin from whom that man should be
born might be pure, through confidence in the cer
tainty of this?
Boso. God, the Son of God.
Ansclm. Was it not above shown, that no desire of
God is at all constrained ; but that it freely maintains
itself in his own unchangeableness, as often as it is
said that he does anything necessarily?
Boso. It has been clearly shown. But we see, on
the other hand, that what God unchangeably wishes
cannot avoid being so, but takes place of necessity.
Wherefore, if God wished that man to die, he could
but die.
Anselm. Because the Son of God took the nature
of man with this desire, viz., that he should suffer
death, you prove it necessary that this man should
not be able to avoid death.
Boso. So I perceive.
Anselm. Has it not in like manner appeared from
272 ANSELM.
the things which we have spoken that the Son of God
and the man whose person he took were so united
that the same being should be both God and man, the
Son of God and the son of the virgin?
Boso. It is so.
Anselm. Therefore the same man could possibly
both die and avoid death.
Boso. I cannot deny it.
Anselm. Since, then, the will of God does nothing
by any necessity, but of his own power, and the will
of that man was the same as the will of God, he died
not necessarily, but only of his own power.
Boso. To your arguments I cannot object ; for
neither your propositions nor your inferences can I
invalidate in the least. But yet this thing which I
have mentioned always recurs to my mind : that, if
he wished to avoid death, he could no more do it than
he could escape existence. For it must have been
fixed that he was to die, for had it not been true that
he was about to die, faith in his coming death would
not have existed, by which the virgin who gave him
birth and many others also were cleansed from their
sin. Wherefore, if he could avoid death, he could
make untrue what was true.
Anselm. Why was it true, before he died, that he
was certainly to die?
Boso. Because this was his free and unchangeable
desire.
Anselm. If, then, as you say, he could not avoid
death because he was certainly to die, and was on this
account certainly to die because it was his free and
unchangeable desire, it is clear that his inability to
avoid death is nothing else but his fixed choice to die.
Boso. This is so ; but whatever be the reason, it
CUR DEUS HOMO. 273
still remains certain that he could not avoid death,
but that it was a necessary thing for him to die.
Anselm. You make a great ado about nothing, or,
as the saying is, you stumble at a straw.
Boso. Are you not forgetting my reply to the ex
cuses you made at the beginning of our discussion,
viz., that you should explain the subject, not as to
learned men, but to me and my fellow inquirers? Suf
fer me, then, to question you as my slowness and
dullness require, so that, as you have begun thus far,
you may go on to settle all our childish doubts.
CHAPTER XVIII (a).1
How, with God there is neither necessity nor impossibility, and
what is a coercive necessity, and what one that is not so.
Anselm. We have already said that it is improper
to affirm of God that he docs anything, or that he
cannot do it, of necessity. For all necessity and im
possibility is under his control. But his choice is sub
ject to no necessity nor impossibility, For nothing
is necessary or impossible save as He wishes it. Nay,
the very choosing or refusing anything as a necessity
or an impossibility is contrary to truth. Since, then,
he does what he chooses and nothing else, as no ne
cessity or impossibility exists before his choice or re
fusal, so neither do they interfere with his acting or
not acting, though it be true that his choice and action
are immutable. And as, when God does a thing, since
it has been done it cannot be undone, but must re
main an actual fact ; still, we are not correct in saying
that it is impossible for God to prevent a past action
IThis and the succeeding chapter are numbered differently in the differ-
tions of Anselm's texts.
274 ANSELM.
from being what it is. For there is no necessity or
impossibility in the case whatever but the simple will
of God, which chooses that truth should be eternally
the same, for he himself is truth. Also, if he has a
fixed determination to do anything, though his design
must be destined to an accomplishment before it
comes to pass, yet there is no coercion as far as he is
concerned, either to do it or not to do it, for his will is
the sole agent in the case. For when we say that God
cannot do a thing, we do not deny his power ; on the
contrary, we imply that he has invincible authority
and strength. For we mean simply this, that nothing
can compel God to do the thing which is said to be
impossible for him. We often use an expression of
this kind, that a thing can be when the power is not
in itself, but in something else ; and that it cannot be
when the weakness does not pertain to the thing it
self, but to something else. Thus we say; "Such a
man can be bound," instead of saying, "Somebody
can bind him , " and, " He cannot be bound," instead
of, "Nobody can bind him." For to be able to be
overcome is not power but weakness, and not to be
able to be overcome is not weakness but power. Nor
do we say that God does anything by necessity, be
cause there is any such thing pertaining to him, but
because it exists in something else, precisely as I said
with regard to the affirmation that he cannot do any
thing. For necessity is always either compulsion or
restraint ; and these two kinds of necessity operate
variously by turn, so that the same thing is both nec
essary and impossible. For whatever is obliged to
exist is also prevented from non-existence ; and that
which is compelled not to exist is prevented from ex
istence. So that whatever exists from necessity can-
CUR DEUS HOMO. 275
not avoid existence, and it is impossible for a thing
to exist which is under a necessity of non-existence,
and vice versa. But when we say with regard to God,
that anything is necessary or not necessary, we do not
mean that, as far as he is concerned, there is any ne
cessity either coercive or prohibitory, but we mean
that there is a necessity in everything else, restraining
or driving them in a particular way. Whereas we say
the very opposite of God. For, when we affirm that
it is necessary for God to utter truth, and never to lie,
we only mean that such is his unwavering disposition
to maintain the truth that of necessity nothing can
avail to make him deviate from the truth, or utter a
lie. When, then, we say that that man (who, by the
union of persons, is also God, the Son of God) could
not avoid death, or the choice of death, after he was
born of the virgin, we do not imply that there was in
him any weakness with regard to preserving or choos
ing to preserve his life, but we refer to the unchange
ableness of his purpose, by which he freely became
man for this design, viz., that by persevering in his
wish he should suffer death. And this desire nothing
could shake. For it would be rather weakness than
power if he could wish to lie, or deceive, or change
his disposition, when before he had chosen that it
should remain unchanged. And, as I said before,
when one has freely determined to do some good ac
tion, and afterwards goes on to complete it, though,
if unwilling to pay his vow, he could be compelled to
do so, yet we must not say that he does it of neces
sity, but with the same freedom with which he made
the resolution. For we ought not to say that anything
is done, or not done, by necessity or weakness, when
free choice is the only agent in the case. And, if this
276 ANSELM.
is so with regard to man, much less can we speak of
necessity or weakness in reference to God ; for he
does nothing except according to his choice, and his
will no force can drive or restrain. For this end was
accomplished by the united natures of Christ, viz.,
that the Divine nature should perform that part of the
work needful for man's restoration which the human
nature could not do ; and that in the human should
be manifested what was inappropriate to the Divine.
Finally, the virgin herself, who was made pure by
faith in him, so that he might be born of her, even
she, I say, never believed that he was to die, save of
his own choice. For she knew the words of the
prophet, who said of him: "He was offered of his
own will. " Therefore, since her faith was well founded,
it must necessarily turn out as she believed. And, if
it perplexes you to have me say that it is necessary,
remember that the reality of the virgin's faith was not
the cause of his dying by his own free will ; but, be
cause this was destined to take place, therefore her
faith was real. If, then, it be said that it was neces
sary for him to die of his single choice, because the
antecedent faith and prophecy were true, this is no
more than saying that it must be because it was to
be. But such a necessity as this does not compel a
thing to be, but only implies a necessity of its exist
ence. There is an antecedent necessity which is the
cause of a thing, and there is also a subsequent neces
sity arising from the thing itself. Thus, when the
heavens are said to revolve, it is an antecedent and
efficient necessity, for they must revolve. But when
I say that you speak of necessity, because you are
speaking, this is nothing but a subsequent and in
operative necessity. For I only mean that it is im-
CUR DEUS HOMO. 277
possible for you to speak and not to speak at the same
time, and not that some one compels you to speak.
For the force of its own nature makes the heaven re
volve; but no necessity obliges you to speak. But
wherever there is an antecedent necessity, there is
also a subsequent one ; but not vice versa. For we
can say that the heaven revolves of necessity, because
it revolves; but it is not likewise true that, because
you speak, you do it of necessity. This subsequent
necessity pertains to everything, so that we say :
Whatever has been, necessarily has been. Whatever
is, must be. Whatever is to be, of necessity will be.
This is that necessity which Aristotle treats of ("//<?
propositionibiis singularibus et futuris "), and which
seems to destroy any alternative and to ascribe a ne
cessity to all things. By this subsequent and impera
tive necessity, was it necessary (since the belief and
prophecy concerning Christ were true, that he would
die of his own free will), that it should be so. For
this he became man ; for this he did and suffered all
things undertaken by him ; for this he chose as he
did. For therefore were they necessary, because they
were to be, and they were to be because they were,
and they were because they were ; and, if you wish to
know the real necessity of all things which he did and
suffered, know that they were of necessity, because
he wished them to be. But no necessity preceded his
will. Wherefore if they were not save by his will,
then, had he not willed they would not have existed.
So then, no one took his life from him, but he laid it
down of himself and took it again ; for he had power
to lay it down and to take it again, as he himself said.
Boso. You have satisfied me that it cannot be
proved that he was subjected to death by any neces-
278 ANSELM.
sity; and I cannot regret my importunity in urging
you to make this explanation.
Anselm. I think we have shown with sufficient
clearness how it was that God took a man without sin
from a sinful substance ; but I would on no account
deny that there is no other explanation than this which
we have given, for God can certainly do what human
reason cannot grasp. But since this appears ade
quate, and since in search of other arguments we
should involve ourselves in such questions as that of
original sin, and how it was transmitted by our first
parents to all mankind, except this man of whom we
are speaking; and since, also, we should be drawn
into various other questions, each demanding its own
separate consideration ; let us be satisfied with this
account of the matter, and go on to complete our in
tended work.
Boso. As you choose ; but with this condition that,
by the help of God, you will sometime give this other
explanation, which you owe me, as it were, but which
now you avoid discussing.
Anselm. Inasmuch as I entertain this desire my
self, I will not refuse you ; but because of the uncer
tainty of future events, I dare not promise you, but
commend it to the will of God. But say now, what
remains to be unravelled with regard to the question
which you proposed in the first place, and which in
volves many others with it?
Boso. The substance of the inquiry was this, why
God became man, for the purpose of saving men by
his death, when he could have done it in some other
way. And you, by numerous and positive reasons,
have shown that the restoring of mankind ought not
to take place, and could not, without man paid the
CUR DEUS HOMO. 279
debt which he owed God for his sin. And this debt
was so great that, while none but man must solve the
debt, none but God was able to do it ; so that he who
does it must be both God and man. And hence arises
a necessity that God should take man into unity with
his own person ; so that he who in his own nature
was bound to pay the debt, but could not, might be
able to do it in the person of God. In fine, you have
shown that that man, who was also God, must be
formed from the virgin, and from the person of the
Son of God, and that he could be taken without sin,
though from a sinful substance. Moreover, you have
clearly shown the life of this man to have been so ex
cellent and so glorious as to make ample satisfaction
for the sins of the whole world, and even infinitely
more. It now, therefore, remains to be shown how
that payment is made to God for the sins of men.
CHAPTER XVIII (b.)
How Christ's life is paid to God for the sins of men, and in what
sense Christ ought, and in what sense he ought not, or was
not bound, to suffer.
Anselm. If he allowed himself to be slain for the
sake of justice, he did not give his life for the honor
of God?
Boso. It should seem so, but I cannot understand,
although I do not doubt it, how he could do this rea
sonably. If I saw how he could be perfectly holy,
and yet forever preserve his life, I would acknowledge
that he freely gave, for the honor of God, such a gift
as surpasses all things else but God himself, and is
able to atone for all the sins of men.
Anselm. Do you not perceive that when he bore
280 ANSELM.
with gentle patience the insults put upon him, vio
lence and even crucifixion among thieves that he
might maintain strict holiness ; by this he set men an
example that they should never turn aside from the
holiness due to God on account of personal sacrifice?
But how could he have done this, had he, as he might
have done, avoided the death brought upon him for
such a reason?
Boso. But surely there was no need of this, for
many persons before his coming, and John the Baptist
after his coming but before his death, had sufficiently
enforced this example by nobly dying for the sake of
the truth.
Anselm. No man except this one ever gave to God
what he was not obliged to lose, or paid a debt he
did not owe. But he freely offered to the Father what
there was no need of his ever losing, and paid for sin
ners what he owed not for himself. Therefore he set
a much nobler example, that each one should not hesi
tate to give to God, for himself, what he must at any
rate lose before long, since it was the voice of reason;
for he, when not in want of anything for himself and
not compelled by others, who deserved nothing of
him but punishment, gave so precious a life, even the
life of so illustrious a personage, with such willing
ness.
Boso. You very nearly meet my wishes ; but suffer
me to make one inquiry, which you may think fool
ish, but which, nevertheless, I find no easy thing to
answer. You say that when he died he gave what he
did not owe. But no one will deny that it was better
for him, or that so doing he pleased God more than if
he had not done it. Nor will any one say that he was
not bound to do what was best to be done, and what
CUR DEUS HOMO. 28l
he knew would be more pleasing to God. How then
can we affirm that he did not owe God the thing which
he did, that is, the thing which he knew to be best
and most pleasing to God, and especially since every
creature owes God all that he is and all that he knows
and all that he is capable of?
Anselm. Though the creature has nothing of him
self, yet when God grants him the liberty of doing or
not doing a thing, he leaves the alternative with him,
so that, though one is better than the other, yet neither
is positively demanded. And, whichever he does, it
may be said that he ought to do it ; and if he takes
the better choice, he deserves a reward ; because he
renders freely what is his own. For, though celibacy
be better than marriage, yet neither is absolutely
enjoined upon man ; so that both he who chooses
marriage and he who prefers celibacy, may be said to
do as they ought. For no one says that either celibacy
or marriage ought not to be chosen ; but we say that
what a man esteems best before taking action upon
any of these things, this he ought to do. And if a
man preserves his celibacy as a free gift offered to
God, he looks for a reward. When you say that the
creature owes God what he knows to be the better
choice, and what he is able to do, if you mean that he
owes it as a debt, without implying any command on
the part of God, it is not always true. Thus, as I
have already said, a man is not bound to celibacy as
a debt, but ought to marry if he prefers it. And if
you are unable to understand the use of this word
"debere," when no debt is implied, let me inform you
that we use the word " debere" precisely as we some
times do the words "fosse," and "non posse," and also
"necessitas," when the ability, etc., is not in the things
282 ANSELM.
themselves, but in something else. When, for in
stance, we say that the poor ought to receive alms
from the rich, we mean that the rich ought to bestow
alms upon the poor. For this is a debt not owed by
the poor but by the rich. We also say that God ought
to be exalted over all, not because there is any obliga
tion resting upon him, but because all things ought
to be subject to him. And he wishes that all creatures
should be what they ought ; for what God wishes to
be ought to be. And, in like manner, when any crea
ture wishes to do a thing that is left entirely at his
own disposal, we say that he ought to do it, for what
he wishes to be ought to be. So our Lord Jesus, when
he wished, as we have said, to suffer death, ought to
have done precisely what he did ; because he ought to
be what he wished, and was not bound to do anything
as a debt. As he is both God and man, in connection
with his human nature, which made him a man, he
must also have received from the Divine nature that
control over himself which freed him from all obliga
tion, except to do as he chose. In like manner, as
one person of the Trinity, he must have had what
ever he possessed of his own right, so as to be com
plete in himself, and could not have been under obli
gations to another, nor have need of giving anything
in order to be repaid himself.
Boso. Now I see clearly that he did not give him
self up to die for the honor of God, as a debt ; for this
my own reason proves, and yet he ought to have done
what he did.
Anselm. That honor certainly belongs to the whole
Trinity ; and, since he is very God, the Son of God,
he offered himself for his own honor, as well as for
that of the Father and the Holy Spirit ; that is, he
CUR DEUS HOMO. 283
gave his humanity to his divinity, which is one per
son of the Triune God. But, though we express our
idea more definitely by clinging to the precise truth,
yet we may say, according to our custom, that the
Son freely gave himself to the Father. For thus we
plainly affirm that in speaking of one person we un
derstand the whole Deity, to whom as man he offered
himself. And, by the names of Father and Son, a
wondrous depth of devotion is excited in the hearts of
the hearers, when it is said that the Son supplicates
the Father on our behalf.
Boso. This I readily acknowledge.
CHAPTER XIX.
How human salvation follows upon his death.
Anselm. Let us now observe, if we can, how the
salvation of men rests on this.
Boso. This is the very wish of my heart. For,
although I think I understand you, yet I wish to get
from you the close chain of argument.
Anselm. There is no need of explaining how pre
cious was the gift which the Son freely gave.
Boso. That is clear enough already.
Anselm. But you surely will not think that he de
serves no reward, who freely gave so great a gift to
God.
Boso. I see that it is necessary for the Father to
reward the Son ; else he is either unjust in not wish
ing to do it, or weak in not being able to do it; but
neither of these things can be attributed to God.
Anselm. He who rewards another either gives him
something which he does not have, or else remits
some rightful claim upon him. But anterior to the
284 ANSELM.
great offering of the Son, all things belonging to the
Father were his, nor did he ever owe anything which
could be forgiven him. How then can a reward be
bestowed on one who needs nothing, and to whom no
gift or release can be made?
Boso. I see on the one hand a necessity for a re
ward, and on the other it appears impossible ; for
God must necessarily render payment for what he
owes, and yet there is no one to receive it.
Anselm. But if a reward so large and so deserved
is not given to him or any one else, then it will almost
appear as if the Son had done this great work in vain.
Boso. Such a supposition is impious.
Anselm. The reward then must be bestowed upon
some one else, for it cannot be upon him.
Boso. This is necessarily so.
Anselm. Had the Son wished to give some one
else what was due to him, could the Father rightfully
prevent it, or refuse to give it to the other person?
Boso. No ! but I think it would be both just and
necessary that the gift should be given by the Father
to whomsoever the Son wished ; because the Son
should be allowed to give away what is his own, and
the Father cannot bestow it at all except upon some
other person.
Anselm. Upon whom would he more properly be
stow the reward accruing from his death, than upon
those for whose salvation, as right reason teaches, he
became man ; and for whose sake, as we have already
said, he left an example of suffering death to preserve
holiness? For surely in vain will men imitate him, if
they be not also partakers of his reward. Or whom
could he more justly make heirs of the inheritance,
which he does not need, and of the superfluity of his
CUR DEUS HOMO. 285
possessions, than his parents and brethren? What
more proper than that, when he beholds so many of
them weighed down by so heavy a debt, and wasting
through poverty, in the depth of their miseries, he
should remit the debt incurred by their sins, and give
them what their transgressions had forfeited?
Boso. The universe can hear of nothing more rea
sonable, more sweet, more desirable. And I receive
such confidence from this that I cannot describe the
joy with which my heart exults. For it seems to me
that God can reject none who come to him in his
name.
Ansclm. Certainly not, if he come aright. And the
Scriptures, which rest on solid truth as on a firm
foundation, and which, by the help of God, we have
somewhat examined, — the Scriptures, I say, show us
how to approach in order to share such favor, and
how we ought to live under it.
Boso. And whatever is built on this foundation is
founded on an immovable rock.
Ansclm. I think I have nearly enough answered
your inquiry, though I might do it still more fully,
and there are doubtless many reasons which are be
yond me and which mortal ken does not reach. It is
also plain that God had no need of doing the thing
spoken of, but eternal truth demanded it. For though
God is said to have done what that man did, on ac
count of the personal union made ; yet God was in no
need of descending from heaven to conquer the devil,
nor of contending against him in holiness to free man
kind. But God demanded that man should conquer
the devil, so that he who had offended by sin should
atone by holiness. As God owed nothing to the devil
but punishment, so man must only make amends by
286 ANSELM.
conquering the devil as man had already been con
quered by him. But whatever was demanded of man,
he owed to God and not to the devil.
CHAPTER XX.
How great and how just is God's compassion.
Now we have found the compassion of God which
appeared lost to you when we were considering God's
holiness and man's sin ; we have found it, I say, so
great and so consistent with his holiness, as to be in
comparably above anything that can be conceived.
For what compassion can excel these words of the
Father, addressed to the sinner doomed to eternal
torments and having noway of escape: "Take my
only begotten Son and make him an offering for your
self;" or these words of the Son: "Take me, and
ransom your souls." For these are the voices they
utter, when inviting and leading us to faith in the
Gospel. Or can anything be more just than for him
to remit all debt since he has earned a reward greater
than all debt, if given with the love which he de
serves.
CHAPTER XXI.
How it is impossible for the devil to be reconciled.
IF you carefully consider the scheme of human
salvation, you will perceive the reconciliation of the
devil, of which you made inquiry, to be impossible.
For, as man could not be reconciled but by the death
of the God-man, by whose holiness the loss occasioned
by man's sin should be made up; so fallen angels
cannot be saved but by the death of a God-angel who
by his holiness may repair the evil occasioned by the
CUR DEUS HOMO. 287
sins of his companions. And as man must not be re
stored by a man of a different race, though of the
same nature, so no angel ought to be saved by any
other angel, though all were of the same nature, for
they are not like men, all of the same race. For all
angels were not sprung from one, as all men were.
And there is another objection to their restoration,
viz , that, as they fell with none to plot their fall, so
they must rise with none to aid them ; but this is im
possible. But otherwise they cannot be restored to
their original dignity. For, had they not sinned, they
would have been confirmed in virtue without any for
eign aid, simply by the power given to them from the
first. And, therefore, if any one thinks that the re
demption of our Lord ought to be extended even to
the fallen angels, he is convinced by reason, for by
reason he has been deceived. And I do not say this
as if to deny that the virtue of his death far exceeds
all the sins of men and angels, but because infallible
reason rejects the reconciliation of the fallen angels.
CHAPTER XXII.
How the truth of the Old and New Testament is shown in the
things which have been said.
Boso. All things which you have said seem to me
reasonable and incontrovertible. And by the solution
of the single question proposed do I see the truth of
all that is contained in the Old and New Testament.
For, in proving that God became man by necessity,
leaving out what was taken from the Bible, viz., the
remarks on the persons of the Trinity, and on Adam,
you convince both Jews and Pagans by the mere
force of reason. And the God-man himself originates
288 ANSELM.
the New Testament and approves the Old. And, as
we must acknowledge him to be true, so no one can
dissent from anything contained in these books.
Anselm. If we have said anything that needs cor
rection, I am willing to make the correction if it be a
reasonable one. But, if the conclusions which we
have arrived at by reason seem confirmed by the tes
timony of the truth, then ought we to attribute it, not
to ourselves, but to God, who is blessed forever. —
Amen.
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...
B 765 ,A83 P713 1903 SMC
Anselm,
St. Anselme: Proslogium;
Monologium; an appendix In b
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